#everyone's a bit on edge it seems. I rarely use my personal Twitter but I opened it today and saw some close mutuals snapping at people | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

azucanela · 3 years

Text

prologue

pairing: bakugou katsuki x fem!reader

warnings: alcohol consumption. cursing.

word count: 3k

summary: the internet is enamored with the idea of y/n l/n and bakugou katsuki, two renowned pro heroes, dating. the first issue? the pair rarely interacts. the second issue? apparently, they hate each other, not that anyone knows about that bit. of course, after one night of many mistakes, the whole world knows.

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THE NIGHT OF THE GALA, it quickly came to Y/N’s attention that she definitely should not have waited til the last minute to get ready. But, her own procrastination had bested her, especially since she didn’t want to go, at all. It isn’t that Y/N wasn’t excited to see all her peers, it’s just that...

Y/N wasn’t excited to see her peers.

Or anyone for that matter, she was exhausted after having just recently returned from one of her longer missions, and though her publicist had insisted the timing was perfect Y/N had to disagree.

She was really hoping for a break, not to be forced into socializing with everyone. And though Y/N didn’t want to seem arrogant in any way, she was a woman who had amassed quite the influence in her years as a Pro Hero. Meaning people wanted to talk to her, they wanted her favor.

Y/N wasn’t in the mood to have conversations with people faking kindness at the moment, which was the primary reason she found herself grimacing as she slipped on her second heel. Nearly falling to the floor had she not caught herself on the edge of the doorway as she hopped out while adjusting her shoe.

As though things couldn’t become more chaotic, Y/N’s phone rings, causing her to jump at the sudden noise in shock before cursing, hand reaching into her small purse and digging around for the item as she continues towards her door. Just before she can pick up the phone, the call promptly ends, and a knock sounds at the door— causing Y/N to groan in annoyance as she comes to a proper stand and begins to make her way towards the entrance of her home.

The knocks become more rapid, and Y/N suddenly realizes just who is at her door as she rolls her eyes, calling out, “I’m coming you impatient hag.”

Y/N can practically hear the scoff of her publicist as she finally opens the door, revealing the woman who stands with her brow raised. “We’re going to be late.”

Before her stands Lorelai Flores, one of the most renowned publicists of their time. Y/N was lucky to have scored her seeing as she was one of few Pro Heroes who hadn’t had a scandal yet, miraculously. In fact, Y/N had been one of her first clients shortly after they’d met in a local café— the woman had come from America and Y/N couldn’t help but wonder if life there was more chaotic with how well she handled all her clients.

The woman in question stands before Y/N in a green dress as she removes her glasses, eyes scanning Y/Ns figure before saying, “you look nice.”

A smile finds its way onto Y/N’s face as she lightly shoves Lorelai, stepping out of her apartment and locking the door behind her before the pair begins to head down the hall, “you look great as well!”

The click of their heels brings Y/N a satisfaction she cant describe as they exit the apartment complex, Y/N lived in a quiet area, an attempt to escape the unavoidable fame being a Pro Hero brought on. It was especially worse when you saw all the posts.

God, Twitter is insane, Y/N learnt that the hard way. Despite the fact that she and Bakugou Katsuki hadn’t been in the same room since graduation— for a reason— the internet had taken to shipping the pair. It was an idea that Y/N abhorred given her history with the boy. After all, they’d practically been butting heads since they met.

But it was appealing to the masses, the idea of someone “soft” like Y/N, someone known for their charity work and kindness, their sweet smile and endless optimism. And someone... like Bakugou. Harsh, almost ill-mannered and rude— though there was no denying that he’d made progress since their UA days, not that Y/N could confirm this seeing as she hadn’t seen him in so long. That and the fact that last she checked, most of the major headlines involving Bakugou were... not very positive.

Y/N started to avoid social media once she discovered this ship. She and Bakugou didn’t have the best relationship during their time at UA, it was practically a rivalry in their last year especially.

“All your friends are going to be there.” Lorelai hummed, scrolling through her phone as she side eyed Y/N, the pair slipping inside a limo with ease once they stepped out of building, met by one of many men that Lorelai had hired. She had insisted that now that Y/N was a Pro Hero, she’d be a target too. And of course, her publicist was right.

Her brow raises, as she settles in the car, deciding to simply reply, “yes, I’m aware they’ll all be there.” It’s a curious comment, seeing as it was an obvious fact. They were all heroes, and given their history with UA, well... the world had been anticipating their debuts for a while. Meaning they all quickly rose to fame, some faster than others, and some remaining in the spotlight far longer.

Surprisingly, Y/N was included in that bunch, unsurprisingly, Bakugou, Todoroki and Midoriya were as well. Tokoyami had also carved out a nice spot for himself at Hawks’ agency, and Yaoyorozu had managed to become a sidekick to a rather renowned upcoming hero.

Y/N had also earned a spot at Hawks’ agency, the man demanding her presence because she had “reminded him of himself,” for some reason. And seeing as he was one of the top heroes, who was she to disagree? The man seemed to understand her desire for distance, allowing her to go on missions that tended to be further out from where she’d grown up. And she was more thankful for the space.

She’d taken to philanthropy as soon as the money started coming in. Y/N had never understood just how much money Pro Heroes made until she was earning it as well. Although, seeing as she wasn’t ranked all that high, it wasn’t until she started branching out and doing other work that it became ridiculous.

“All of your friends, Ms. L/N.” Lorelai looks up to her, brow raised as she crosses her legs, resting her clasped hands on top of them.

Y/N offers her a tight lipped smile before waving her off, “I told you to call me Y/N, we’ve known each other how long?”

“Don’t change the subject.”

Sighing, Y/N shifts uncomfortably in her seat, eyes drifting towards the window to see there are already dozens of flashing lights lined up, surrounding the venue of the gala, hoping to catch one of the Pro Heroes before anyone else does.

With a sigh, Lorelai directs her eyes outside as well, hands clasped together as she straightens herself in her seat, “funny isn’t it? That such a vital job requires so much publicity?” A tight lipped smile forms on their face, “I suppose I should be grateful for it. After all, it’s the reason I have a job but...”

But, Y/N hated it, and so did Lorelai.

“It’s horrid that my dress matters more than any life I save.”

And with that, the car comes to a stop. Alerting them that they’ve arrived, coupled with a short and swift knock on the door to signal that it’s time to get out.

Inhaling deeply, Y/N looks back to Lorelai, who takes out a pocket mirror and removes her glasses, Lorelai eyes herself in the mirror momentarily, blinking once, twice, before saying, “most people don’t bring their publicists to such events you know.”

A small laugh escapes Y/N, and she knows its Lorelai’s attempt at helping her wind down before going inside, though she replies, “you’re more than my publicist.” Offering her a smile, Y/N simply says, “and why suffer alone when I can bring my friend, and who else will make sure I don’t do anything dumb?”

It was true, it was always nice to have a partner at such functions, someone to hang around or return to. Or more accurately, someone to use as an excuse to leave the more annoying conversations. Though Lorelai always enjoyed the free foods and gift bags— that had items worth more than her rent, Lorelai had once said— and agreed to join Y/N/

Rolling her eyes, Lorelai simply knocks at the door, letting their chauffeur know it’s time before momentarily turning back to Y/N as they say, “ladies first.”

And with that, the door opens, revealing the pair to the world and exposing them to all the flashing lights of the mob awaiting them. People shouting out her Pro Hero name, Empatha.

Named for her quirk, Empathic Mimicry. Granting her to use the ability of those she touches for as long as she wants. However, in that period of time, she can feel their emotions and pain, and the quirk she uses comes with the setbacks of the user. If the person she touches is quirkless, it is possible to get other skills of theirs, but once again there are setbacks.

Todoroki spent much of his free time at UA theorizing that she and Monoma Neito were secretly related in some way. Monoma on the other hand, seemed bitter about the fact that Y/N was “a better version” of him. Despite this, the memory of Todoroki’s odd question brings a genuine smile to her face as she steps onto the red carpet, swiftly making her way past as she waves towards the cameras.

It’s just as overwhelming as it was the first time. And the second time. And the time after that. Even if Y/N had taught herself to control her abilities, no longer feeling the emotions of those surrounding her. But she didn’t need her ability to feel the excitement, anxiety— and worst of all the ambition. Ambition tended to be dangerous in the hero world. The reason behind unnecessary deaths, and exposed scandals. In Y/N’s experience it was a dangerous emotion, but she wouldn’t deny it had produced some impressive people.

The lights are blinding as Y/N maneuvers inside, colliding with someone, warm hands come to rest on her forearms as the person in question mutters out, “watch where you’re going.”

Y/N finds herself freezing, recognizing him almost instantly. By the time her eyes have readjusted to the light, she finds that Bakugou is staring right back at her, mouth gaped open.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Y/N scoffs, tearing her arm from his grasp as he quickly as she attempts to collect herself, inhaling deeply.

Y/N probably should’ve guessed it was him from the screams, pose for a picture! Why don’t you two get a little closer! Can you comment on your relationship? They’re yelling for Bakugou too, wondering why he finally decided to make an appearance. Y/N is curious as well, for different reasons of course.

Bakugou is rolling his eyes before she can continue, “please, it’s not like I wanted to see you either.”

Y/N nods slowly, offering him a bitter smile as she inhaled deeply— taking a few steps back. “Great to see you Bakugou, truly.” Sarcasm dripping from her tone as she stands beside him begrudgingly, putting on a false smile, “I hate you just as much as I used to.”

Pausing, Bakugou’s hand comes to hover over her waist, as he stares into the cameras, muttering, “why?”

“We both have reputations to maintain, do we not?” Comes her response, looking to him, Y/N reminds herself not to scowl as she straightens herself beside him, waving to a group of people and inciting more screams as she beams from beside Bakugou.

His laugh is a bitter one as he replies, “right.” Y/N inhales shakily, removing herself from Bakugou as she offers him a sarcastic smile, “thanks for the show, Sweetheart, but you aren’t all that important. You aren’t doing me any favors right now.”

A laugh escapes her, and the number of flashes increases exponentially, only for her to turn to Bakugou and say, “really now? Well, I suppose you’re right I’m not important seeing as you’re the one on the front page every week for a different scandal.” Bakugou looks away, scoffing, and Y/N nearly flips him off before reminding herself where she is and saying, “And I don’t want your thanks. I don’t want anything from you.”

And then she’s off, offering tight lipped smiles to those around her as she moved further into the venue for the gala, grabbing a drink off the tray of a passing waiter, Y/N mumbled out words of thanks before downing the drink instantly. Making her way past each person when a hand grabs her wrist.

“Y/N?”

Izuku Midoriya, better known as Pro Hero Deku, had intercepted Y/N on her way to the sanctuary of every party. The bathroom. Though he was probably the best person to have caught her, and undoubtedly someone she actually wanted to speak with. Y/N had a feeling he could tell something was wrong from the way he looked at her, concern clear in his eyes, Izuku was always easy to read. But she had somewhere to be and—

And Bakugou would be entering anytime soon. And what infuriated Bakugou more than she did? Izuku Midoriya.

So, Y/N puts a smile on her face as she says, “hey Midoriya.” She clears her throat, moving to stand beside him as she asks, “how are you doing?”

He beams back at her, his smile as genuine as ever as he responds, “I’m well! And so are you it seems, there are rumors that you’ll be entering the top 100 heroes this year, you know?”

Y/N had heard such rumors as well, if they were true, she’d be the first of her class to become a part of the top 100. Seeing as they were still basically fresh out of UA, it would be quite the achievement for her to do so at such a young age. Rivaling the progression of even Pro Hero Hawks.

Raising a brow Y/N shoves him lightly, “scouting out the competition are you, Midoriya?”

Midoriya’s eyes widen and he immediately begins shaking his head as his cheeks flush a bright red, “absolutely not!” He exclaims, “I’m just so amazed by how far you’ve come and it’s been so long since I’ve seen you.”

A small laugh escapes her at his reaction, her eyes drifting towards her empty glass as she replies, “well I have no doubt that if I do miraculously enter the top 100, you’ll be close behind.” Inhaling deeply, she meets his eyes, “now if you’ll excuse me, I was on my way to the restroom when you caught me.” Once again, his cheeks flush a light pink as he begins to sputter apologies, and Y/N simply smiles as she says, “but we should definitely catch up sometime soon, maybe we can hang out sometime soon?”

A bashful smile finds its way onto his face as he nods slowly, “yeah. I would like that.”

And with that, Y/N waves goodbye to him continuing to the bathroom and managing to avoid any more conversations though few tried. Likely hoping for some good publicity themselves, she could see people beginning to swarm Deku in the distance now— and Y/N finds herself feeling bad that she left him so soon.

But as Y/N makes her way inside the restroom, it finally hits her.

Lorelai meant it when she said all her peers are coming, the woman had probably meant it as a warning. It was rare for Bakugou to attend social events, especially since they rarely ended well when it came to him. Most days, he ended up the headline of every single news sources when it came to his public events, rarely did Bakugou have a good run in with the press. Y/N was shocked he’d made it this far in the hero industry with his poor reputation only worsening at every event.

Oh she needed a drink. Y/N needed a lot of drinks. She couldn’t do this right now, not at all.

But more importantly, she needed fun, she needed lots of fun. So, taking one last look at the mirror, Y/N inhales deeply before exiting the restroom, spotting Izuku Midoriya almost instantly. She makes her way towards him, calling out for him, “Midoriya!” Her words distract him from his conversation, drawing the attention of those around then and the people who were initially speaking to him.

The boy seems relieved that someone has come to save him from whatever conversation he was having, waving to Y/N as he says, “Y/N?”

A grin comes onto her face as she extends a hand to him, looking to those around him, “sorry to interrupt but—” She turns back to Izuku, “may I have this dance?

He offers her a nervous smile, only sparing those around him a glance as he replies, “definitely.”

And with that, she drags him to the dance floor, and Y/N can feel the eyes on her as she does. It certainly is a curious sight. Two of the big up and coming heroes heading to the dance floor together after barely any public interactions. Y/N is sure that once the word gets out the internet will be going insane, and so will the press. Weaving together stories of insanity to boost their readership.

At this rate, Y/N didn’t care.

This was Y/N L/N’s first mistake of the night, but it certainly wouldn’t be her last seeing as by the end of the night, Y/N L/N and Bakugou Katsuki would be on every front page and headline.

note: lmk how this was pls i need validation <3

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achliegh · 3 years

Text

Golden

Yeehaw Leo… it's all because this song came on one day (I don’t even really listen to country anymore so it really is fate). Leo is based off that song, each chapter is going to be based off a yeehaw song too.

Characters belong to @lumosinlove

Beta: @the-most-slytherin-hufflepuff & @punkkkkboi

TW/CW: Smut, terrible yeehaw sayings and jokes, injuries, mentions of past death/suicide, minor character death, underage drinking, mentions of past arrests, cringe

Chapter Songs (listening in order is recommended):

Chapter 17:

The plane landed, Finn was the first to turn his phone off airplane mode and suddenly it was blowing up, twitter, Instagram, snapchat, tiktok, even Facebook for chrissakes. He was getting messages from family, friends and even the team. He put his phone on silent when he started getting annoyed glances from other passengers.

Logan was next, not as many notifications but still a lot. Leo had a few but none of them had to do with Finn and Logan. Finn was scrolling furiously through his notifications, getting more and more nervous as he kept scrolling. Then he saw the first twitter notification.

Hacked.

His eyes widened and his heart was pounding, Logan was the person in the middle this time, he grips Logan’s arm tight. Logan looks over to him a bit groggy and confused. Finn is in complete panic. Logan raises an eyebrow asking what's wrong. Finn just shakes his head and shoves his phone in his pocket.

They get off the plane and everything is normal, getting their bags and walking towards the closest exit Finn stops walking, causing Noelle to run into the back of him. They all look outside and notice all the media waiting.

What was going on…

“Noelle, Leo can you guys go out a different door and take a taxi to meet us at the apartment? Call Sirius while you’re on the way.”

“Finn what's going on?” Leo is staring outside for a moment before he meets Finn’s eyes.

“Please just do what I ask, I’ll explain more if you don’t hear anything on the way.” Leo and Noelle share a look and then nod, walking towards the exit that is two doors away, Noelle calling a taxi while Leo calls Sirius.

“Finn?” Logan takes his hand, running his thumb over the freckled man’s knuckles. He is looking at the media and they seem to have noticed them, taking pictures through the glass. The flashes put a spot in his eyes when he blinks. Finn has his jaw set in a way that Logan rarely sees, he is angry. Something isn’t right.

“Keep a hand on me, you know how terrible the press can be.” Finn grips his hand tighter as they walk towards the doors with all the press, hoping Noelle and Leo got out safe. The door opens and the mingled words of shouting reporters who Finn knows are just trying to do their job but it's an annoying job.

“LOGAN! Does Finn know you’ve been cheating on him” A female reporter yelled out from the middle of the pack. Logan snaps his head around and is about to answer before Finn drags him forward.

“Finn, do you know the man in the video!?” A male reporter shouted at them and kept asking more and more questions until Finn couldn’t take it anymore he turned around. The shouting, the flashes, the microphones in his face, it was all too much. He was overwhelmed and shutting down.

“Fuck off!” Before turning back around and walking into the first floor of the parking garage, some of the reporters with just pad and pens followed them through the barriers. He ignores them as he unlocks the vehicle. Logan and Finn toss their bags in before they get in themselves.

“Let me see your phone.” Logan is so thankful for the tinted window in this car. Finn hands him his phone and it already has Logan’s face ID so he unlocks the phone and starts looking through everything on Finn’s twitter that was posted. There was everything from Finn’s own nudes to Logan’s. He felt sick to his stomach as he scrolled, then he saw it.

“They posted the video… The video of me and Leo in the mirror. I didn’t know you saved that on your phone, I thought it was just snapchat.”

“They hacked everything of mine, Lo, Baby… I’m so sorry.” Logan hears the crack in Finn’s voice and just places his hand over Finn’s on the console between them. It was a silent drive home.

When Noelle and Leo reached the apartment the press was outside, luckily they couldn't get into the parking garage or the actual building. They make their way inside and see most of the team already waiting by the door.

“What’s going on?” Leo asks Sirius as he unlocks the door and lets everyone in. James turns on the news but nothing is on but the weather right now, Lily and Celeste are there and go to the kitchen with food they already made. Leo was getting more and more confused.

“Finn was hacked, every account of his on social media has posted pictures of him and Logan but there is one video and we know it’s you.” Sirius watches as Leo’s face pales immediately. “No one else knows though, they are trying to call Logan a cheater and Finn a cuck but no one can figure out who you are.”

“What’s the video?” Leo closes the door behind everyone and moves him and Noelle's bags to line the wall so people don’t trip, he’d move them into his room later.

“A video of you and Logan in a mirror, it’s dark and you don’t show either of your faces but people are going wild for it. It was released on twitter first… then everywhere else.” Leo nods and politely excuses himself to the kitchen to help with whatever because that is his safe space.

A half hour later Logan and Finn stumble in the apartment. Finn says nothing as he walks over to Sirius and just starts apologizing for how he has ruined the team's reputation, while Logan takes a slow seat next to Dumo who doesn’t hesitate to pull him into a supportive hug.

“It’s going to be okay.” Dumo mumbles into Logan’s hair rubbing his hand up and down his back as Logan sniffles. “This could have happened to any of us. Hell, it already happened to Remus and Sirius.”

“Not in the same way.” Logan’s voice is muffled in Dumo’s chest and the older man just holds him tighter. “Maman and Papa are going to kill me…” Logan hands his phone to Dumo and it's already unlocked, messages from his parents are on screen. He takes Logan’s phone and holds it up to where he can see it better. Messages just saying horrible things about Logan and Leo for some reason.

“Logan-”

“Shush! Laisse-moi tranquille!” Dumo sighs and closes Logan’s phone, putting it far away from them on the coffee table as he just holds his son.

“Finn, you did nothing wrong! Stop apologizing!” Sirius pulls Finn into a tight hug and Finn tries to pull out of it but Sirius is much stronger. Holding him there while angry tears threaten to fall from Finn’s eyes. Once he melts into Sirius’ hold he starts talking.

“I just ruined my boys' lives…”

“Finn, this wasn’t you.” Finn doesn’t answer, he just slowly pulls away from Sirius when he hears his phone ringing. It’s Alex, he is supposed to go to his wedding this weekend and Finn is thinking he is going to uninvite him.

“I should take this on the balcony.” Sirius gives him a firm pat on the shoulder, resting his hand for a second to give it a squeeze before Finn brushes him off and walks outside. “Alex.” Finn immediately starts crying at the voice of his brother. “Alex- I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to ruin your wedding.”

“What? Finn, I’m calling to make sure you are okay, this has nothing to do with my wedding.” Finn cries even harder, having to support himself on the railing as his tears drip over the edge. “Finn please talk to me.”

“I don’t know what to say, I ruined their lives, Alex! I ruined the people who I love most. How could I do that?” He squats down keeping one hand on the railing and pressing his forehead to the cold metal of the wall of the balcony.

“Finn, Bud, I know you love to blame everything on yourself but I promise you this is not your fault.” Finn lets out a pained noise as his brother speaks.

“Alex, I was the one who saved the pictures! It’s internet 101!” He takes a deep breath as he starts to become exhausted from crying, no more tears were coming but he felt as though his breathing wouldn’t slow down.

“What? You think I don’t have pictures of my fiancé on my phone?” Finn laughs a tiny bit as his breathing starts to go back to normal. “Finn, you need to take down all your accounts before this gets on the news.”

“I tried, I got locked out of them on the way home when Logan started deleting them as I drove us home.”

“Then I guess you need to get in contact with Twitter and whatever else… Then you need to stop feeling sorry for yourself and make up a plan to play the media.” Finn is silent for a moment, thinking about how they have a game this Friday, the day he also leaves for Florida in the middle of the night.

“Play the media… That's probably the smartest thing you’ve ever said.”

“Hey!”

“Love you Alex but I need to talk to Sirius and Remus.” He hangs up the phone and rounds up Logan, Remus and Sirius. Pushing them into Leo’s room. “Okay so… how do we fuck with the media?”

Leo was oddly quiet, Reg noticed and placed a hand on his arm. Smiling a little bit at each other Reg could see just how scared Leo is. He is in his head and it's worrying him. Leo isn’t exactly the best at taking care of his mental health and his stress baking foods he doesn’t even like is definitely a sign.

“Leo, why don’t we go have a smoke?” Leo just shakes his head, Clay is sick right now and Thomas didn’t let him come here because he has been ill since they got back home. “Leo, can we at least sit down?”

“These need to be finished Reg. If you want to go sit then sit.” Reg sighs and decides not to pester him anymore. Going over to sit on the couch. He is brought away from texting Clay to the news loudly playing over the TV.

Leo and everyone else in the kitchen move to behind the couch to look at the screen. He was hoping it wasn’t going to be anything about them and what was posted. He was praying to any God he could think of that it wasn’t them.

His prayers never seem to work.

“Breaking News! Finn O’Hara, winger for the infamous Gryffindor Lions hockey team, has recently had some pictures and a video of him, his boyfriend… and a secret man leak onto the internet. We had reporters at the airport earlier today to see if we could get any statements from the two love birds as they made their way back home. We were trying to get answers but O’Hara and Tremblay seemed to be avoiding answering anything. Here is the footage we got from earlier”

Footage from Finn and Logan walking out of the airport shows up on the screen. Finn looking like thunder, Logan just looking confused. Leo watches Logan snap his head towards the reporter who yelled something at him, he didn’t know what was said because his ears felt like they were full of cotton. Finn leads them further on into the crowd but Finn suddenly turns around and spits a ‘Fuck off’ their way before ducking into the parking garage.

“Tremblay seems to be confused as to what was going on while O’Hara was getting defensive. The question everyone is asking is, who is this mystery man? And will this seemingly perfect relationship fall apart because of him? We have the video that was leaked here and we can only show the top half as the bottom is quite scandalous.”

Then suddenly Leo is on TV, they stick to their word only showing the top half of the video, it was darker than Leo remembers it being. He watches as Logan’s mouth moves but there is no audio… just a caption.

Finn.

The week flies by, Leo is the only person allowed to leave the apartment besides for practice, they had a game tonight against Ravenclaw. They won 2-0. Finn and Logan, of course, were being interviewed. Sat together in their stalls, sweaty and still in all their gear, they were very touchy on camera. Logan had kissed Finn’s cheek a couple of times, Finn’s arm was over Logan and he was watching Logan like he was the most important thing in the room.

“So, everyone wants to know. Who is the man in the video?” A reporter turns her microphone towards Finn who just shrugs and smiles.

“Like you said, he's the man in the video.” This shocks everyone for a minute because the camera flashes again.

“Did you like seeing another man with Logan?”

“I wouldn’t have kept it if I didn’t like it.” Finn flashes his most charming smile.

“Logan, is this a random man or someone you know.”

“I know every inch of them.” He smiles as Finn snickers.

“Are you two in an open relationship?”

“Nope!” They both answer at the same time before sharing a chaste kiss. Logan playfully pushes Finn’s cheek away from him and they start laughing again.

“Are you swingers?” They both start laughing and shaking their heads for the millionth time in this interview.

“Non, our relationship is closed and we aren’t swingers. Sorry you just aren’t our type.” The whole locker room gets a chuckle out of that and Marlene kicks the media out of the room so everyone can change. Logan and Finn get changed and finally feel like an entire house has been lifted off their shoulders. Finn was leaving tonight and Leo was meeting Logan at the Dumias house to watch the kids for the weekend.

It was going well. Hours later after Finn kissed his boys goodbye, Logan at the parking lot at the stadium, and Leo at the apartment after grabbing his bags. Maybe they were more than just a chaste kiss on the lips but it was great.

Leo was on his way over to Logan’s with a little surprise next to him. He waltzed up to the door with a small carrier in his arms. Adele answers the door and smiles at him.

“They already have articles about Logan and Finn posted and they are amazing just wait until you hear- what are you holding?” Leo laughs at her as she lets him in. Not giving anything away he walks into the living room, Adele hot on his heels. He sees Logan on his stomach with Marc sitting on his back playing with a hot wheel car on his shoulder blades. Katie is sitting by his head as he rests his head on his hands as she rambles on about something that Leo didn’t catch.

“Leo’s here! And he has a gift.” Adele announces, all the other kiddo’s get up and scramble over to Leo. Hugging him around his legs. Logan slowly stands, starting to get sore from the game that night, stretching his arms above his head before he spins around to see Leo holding a cardboard carrier that you usually get from pet stores.

“What did you bring me, a pet? I’m not that lonely.” Leo smiles and wraps his arm around Logan after the kids let go of him. The little box started squeaking very quietly, catching the attention of everyone. Leo sees the excited stares he's getting from all the kids and his boyfriend so he decides to open the box.

“Meet Tortilla, I adopted her from a family owned pet store that had a litter recently. She has been handlers since she was a tiny version of herself so she is okay around kids.” He lifts a small chinchilla out of the box. She is small and soft chattering to herself as she takes in her surroundings.

Logan’s face immediately morphs into one of pure amazement and adoration. He slowly reaches towards her. “How did you know?”

“Ma found your middle school Pinterest when she was figuring out what gift to get for the holidays. She bought the cages and food for here and Finn’s place.” He smiles as Logan cuddles her gently to his chest. She seems to have taken to him Immediately, burrowing into his arms.

“I love her, I- Leo I don’t know how to respond.”

“You don’t have too. She is part of the family now, Finn has already met her. She doesn’t like him much.” They both smile at that and the kids are now around Logan looking at Tortilla who is thriving under all the attention. “I’m going to start dinner.” With that Leo takes himself into the kitchen to start cooking. He could hear Logan teaching the kids how to hold her properly and how to play with her safely as Leo cooked. He was cooking up leftovers that Celeste left.

Once they ate Leo went out to the truck to get the cage out to put it in Logan’s room. Setting up her enclosure Adele held Tortilla and Katie and Marc stood around her giving Tortilla little pets every chance they got. They placed her in the enclosure after it was ready for her and let her run around inside for a bit before she went into her little home. Logan corralled everyone to the downstairs living room where they watched a couple of movies together.

Soon enough Katie and Marc had fallen asleep on either side of Leo. Katie was basically in his lap and Marc was trying to squish himself behind Leo’s back. Leo got up once the movie ended and picked up one limp child in each arm. Logan decided to go take Adele to bed while Leo tucked the other two in. Asking if they wanted to share a bed and they said yes. So they stayed in Katie’s room both snuggling together as Leo kisses their foreheads goodnight, flicks on the nightlight that makes shapes on the ceiling and leaves the door open a crack so they don’t feel trapped if they wake up.

They met down on the couch again and sat together, Leo’s arm over the back of the couch with Logan resting his head on his shoulder, both tired but not ready for bed.

“We should call Finn, make sure he is in his hotel room safe.” Leo yawns as he is talking while Logan pulls out his phone and starts a FaceTime call with Finn. He doesn’t answer the first time so they try again, him answering on the first ring.

“You guys interrupted my shower concert! I was jamming out.” Finn is only in a towel still dripping wet, he takes a smaller towel and starts drying his hair while looking at the mirror, his phone set up to lean against it on the counter. Leo and Logan share a look of appreciation at their boy.

“You should drop the towel ginger boy, show us what we are missing.” Leo speaks up smirking when he sees Finn turn red.

“You have kids awake!”

“Non, they are asleep.” Logan adds in as they watch Finn pick up the phone and start walking towards the bed, tossing them so they only see the ceiling. They start booing and Finn laughs as he picks the phone back up now in a pair of Leo’s boxers with fish on them. They have become his favorites.

“I was changing, chill out.” He still has the towel from his hair around his shoulders, he just looks at them for a bit taking in how soft and sweet they look curled up together. “You guys are so fucking cute.” He shares a look with Logan and he knows what’s gonna happen. Leo starts talking about the day as Logan leans up to whisper something in his ear. Finn watched as Leo’s face changed from an innocent smile to a dark blush and a slightly shocked face.

“Bedroom?” Leo nods as Logan winks at the phone and drags the taller man to the bedroom, looking around for a second he grabs a chair and pulls it close to the bed while Leo turns on the light. Finn is excitedly watching his screen as Logan tackles Leo onto the bed.

“Tell me what’s the plannn!” Finn whines over the phone and Logan just looks at him from where he is between Leo’s legs and smirks before diving in for a spicy kiss. Logan shoved his tongue in Leo’s mouth taking control of the kids like he hasn’t ever before. Leo is pliant under him and yanks on his shirt as they make out.

Logan leans back and tugs his shirt over his head trying to toss it over the chair but instead throwing it directly at the phone.

“Hey!” Finn shouts from under the shirt, Leo laughs as Logan leans over to pluck the shirt off him. He blows a kiss at the camera before a shirt hits him in the head covering his eyes.

“Hey!” Leo and Finn both start laughing as Logan tosses the other shirt away from them and stands up on the bed pulling down his pants and shakily taking them off before he lands on his knees and yanks Leo’s sweats down.

“In a rush Lo?” Leo smiles as Logan starts furiously digging through his side table drawer for what Leo was guessing was lube. Tossing random papers and a small book on the floor in the process.

“Kinda, I’ve been wanting to fuck you for months!” Leo smiles as Logan finds the small bottle of lube and kneels between his legs. “This okay?”

“Only if We can start with me riding you.” Logan basically moans at the thought. And pours some lube on his fingers.

“Want to watch while I finger Leo? Finn?”

“Is that even a question that needs an answer?” Logan grabs the phone with his clean hand and turns the camera around so that Finn can watch. Leo has taken it upon himself to grab his own knees and pull them towards his chest, giving Logan more room. Finn and Logan both have the wind knocked out of them at the sight.

Logan slowly presses his finger into Leo and is a little surprised when Leo asks him to push it all the way in. Logan complies and Leo moans flushing dark on his chest and inner thighs. Logan starts to pull out and push in and as he does Leo keeps asking for more.

“Baby be Patient.”

“I’m not good at being patient.” Leo’s face is to the side and his eyes are closed S rushing his brow every once in a while when Logan grazes his prostate. He looks beautiful.

Logan eventually adds another finger and Leo starts rocking back on his hand.

“Look at you~” Finn says over the phone, he’s palming himself through his boxers, he doesn’t want to touch until they get to the main event no matter how bad he wants to.

Leo smiles a little, showing off his dimples. Logan doesn’t think he needs to be prepped much more but he is loving watching Leo rock back on his fingers.

“Lo, I’m ready.” Leo starts to sit up as Logan pulls his fingers out Leo kisses him and flips them over so Leo is straddling Logan. He grabs Logan’s phone from his hand and sets it up on top of the headboard that is secured into the wall instead of the bed. “Can you see?”

“Better than I have in my whole life.” Finn smiles looking red and relaxed. Leo watches as Logan lubes himself up. Wiping his hand on the blanket before he rests his hands on Leo’s thighs, tracing his thumb over Matilda’s face as he watches Leo sink down on him. Both gasping, Leo doesn't hesitate to start moving. Logan’s light grasp on Leo's thighs turns into a hard grip within a few seconds. Leo brings himself up and lets gravity take him back down punching sounds out of him as he goes.

“Leo! Leo! I want to change position!” Logan was begging Leo who had his head tipped back, one hand in his hair the other slowly stroking his cock. He looks down at Logan and nods letting the shorter man take over. Leo pulls off and is positioned on his hands and knees. Logan slips back in him and starts fucking him nice and slow until neither of them can take it anymore. He speeds up both of them moaning quieter than usual so they don’t wake up anyone in the house. Logan is getting close so he reaches around and starts jerking Leo off fast with no real rhythm, his own thrusts getting sloppy.

His orgasm sneaks up on him and he isn’t able to give Leo a warning as he cums into him, fucking Leo through his orgasm he plasters himself across Leo’s back kissing his sweaty shoulder blades as he continues to jerk Leo until he feels as warm wet feeling on his hand. Leo must have warmed him but his ears aren’t working. He pulls out of Leo and they both sit up in time to see Finn cumming so hard it hits his chest.

“That was amazing boys, I wish I was there in person.” They both sleepily nod and share a short kiss before taking the phone and heading to Logan ensuite bathroom which is small but gets the job done. They shower with Finn propped in the corner where the water doesn’t hit, just cleaning each other off and hugging under the spray.

They fall into bed and drift off to sleep with Finn who forgot to plug in his phone. It dies some time during the night, making him sleep in a bit longer than he meant too.

But he wasn’t bothered, because he spent the night with his boys.

His boys that he loves.

They really need to tell Leo they love him… when he gets home.

#leo knut #logan tremblay #finn o'hara #james potter #thomas walker #Clayton Bruss #o'knutzy #o’knutzy #lumosinlove #sweater weather #coast to coast #clayton bruss #remus lupin #coops

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keanureevesisbae · 4 years

Text

The alluring charm of Henry Cavill - Chapter 3

Summary: During a trivia game, Adelaide impresses people with her knowledge.

Henry Cavill x Adelaide Park (ofc)

Wordcount: 3.5k

Warnings: None

A/N: For the people who have send in character asks and I haven’t answered it yet: I’m working on it 🤗 Because of school, I haven’t gotten to it yet. But somewhere this week I’ll answer them. Also: I love the responses to this fic. I want to let you know that these comments make my day 💕 Also, did I use the twitter accounts from the characters of my other fics for the tweets at the end? Yes, I did.

Masterlist // Previous chapter // Next chapter

Why am I in bed?

I look around and see that I’m in the middle of the bed that Henry and I share back on the show, but the improvised wall between us is gone.

Back when I was growing up, we had one bedroom and one bed, where we had to squeeze in if we happened to be all home. That rarely happened. It was usually just me, or later on my dad joined, when he got back from work. On mom’s days off, she’d be in bed all day, resting from all those hard days at work. Sharing beds isn’t something that I really mind, even if the person I’m sharing with, is Henry Cavill.

‘You’re awake,’ I hear Henry’s deep voice and I look to my left, to see him standing up from a chair. He sits on the edge of the mattress, sinking into the soft material. ‘How are you?’

‘I don’t know,’ I mumble, pushing myself up straight. I’m not in the muddy clothes anymore and I look at Henry again, slightly worried and ashamed. Did he undress me?

‘Don’t worry,’ he calmly says, ‘Jennifer went with us. She changed you.’

I clear my throat, as I start fidgeting my hands, one of the many nervous ticks I have. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Why?’ Henry asks.

‘We were leading and then…’ I sigh deeply, trying not to think about what happened to me. I never learned how to swim, but I always avoided waters like the plague. During my acting career, I only had to swim once, but I was with David Castañeda, who played my love interest. I let him know that I was scared of water. He promised me he wouldn’t let go and the director actually loved the twist we gave to that swimming pool scene.

However, David knew I was scared of water, but didn’t know I couldn’t swim. Now I told Henry and in a matter of days, the rest of the world will know too, when this episode will air.

Henry doesn’t say anything. I bet he is mad, I think to myself. Fuck, I really let him down, didn’t I?

‘I’m sorry,’ I say, ‘that I let you down.’

His gaze softens. ‘You didn’t,’ he tells me. ‘I shouldn’t have pushed. I should’ve calmed you down. It was obvious that it really scared you.’ Henry sighs deeply. ‘But Adelaide… Why can’t you swim?’ he asks.

I could tell him. The whole world will know I can’t swim in the near future, why not tell them the entire story? ‘We didn’t have the money back when I was younger to go for swimming lessons,’ I say. ‘And I haven’t had the chance to do it now.’

Henry nods. ‘There is a pool in the backyard,’ he says, a telling smile toying on his face. ‘How about, over the course of these two weeks, you and I try it. It’s not deep and I’m there with you every second.’

‘Why?’

He shrugs, as if he is a little embarrassed that he offered, but he shouldn’t be. It’s just that I’m surprised, because the last time someone offered something like that to me… That was so long ago. I think it was when I still lived at home. I always do everything myself and people on set know that I tend to be very independent, so they don’t try. But Henry doesn’t ask or offer, he just does it. In the days that I’ve come to know him, he has been nothing but a gentleman. He made me breakfast and when we were cooking dinner, the oil was splashing over the pan. Before I could step aside, Henry grabbed another pan to shield me from the hot oil. The way he lifted me up during the obstacle course when I couldn’t reach the bars and how he caught me when I fell.

‘Well,’ he says, ‘because I think everyone should know how to swim.’

I smile and say: ‘Well, let’s consider it,’ I say. ‘We finished last, didn’t we?’

‘Yeah, we did,’ he says. ‘But don’t apologize for it, please. I don’t want you to feel bad about it. We were really great during this first challenge, so we’ll climb our way back to the top.’ Henry sends me a dashing smile and I can’t help but blush a little bit. ‘How about you get ready for tonight, then I’ll go and make you something to eat.’

‘Ready for tonight?’

‘Trivia night,’ he says.

I nod. I can’t seem to tear my eyes from him, as I look into his soft eyes. When I first met him, I thought he had that stern look in his face and I still did think that from time to time, but in those days that we spend together, it never looked like this. ‘Right, I’ll get myself ready.’

After a fifteen minute shower, I get dressed in a jeans skirt, with a simple black shirt that I tugged in. I paired it with the same white sneakers I wore the first day. I keep my hair and make-up pretty simple.

Henry made some sandwiches. I never knew that I thought it was attractive that a man could cook, but I sure do know now. Come to think of this, I never really thought about what I wanted for traits in a man.

My parents were happy with one another, but I feared that one day, I ended up like them. Poor, overworked, with two kids and a husband, who maybe felt—just like my dad—that he had to take care of us. Besides, I never experienced love. I never fallen in love, I only had on stage kisses and sex scenes. It was never real.

Maybe I’m way ahead of myself, but I feel something. I feel cared for. I feel noticed. I feel appreciated. Like I’m worth it. And that’s all thanks to Henry Cavill.

◎ ◎ ◎

Everyone seems concerned about me, but after I reassure everyone I am okay, we take place at three different tables, one for each duo. I take a seat on the chair. It’s a little colder than I imagined and I curse myself for not bring a jacket with me. I rub my upper arms as the crew is setting everything up, checking if our mics are working well enough, making sure the screen works.

Henry stands up as he wiggles out of his cosy vest, before placing it without a word on my shoulders.

‘Oh, that’s not necess— uh… needed,’ I say to him.

‘I’m not cold,’ he tells me, as he sits down next to me again. I want to stop my smile, but I can’t help it.

‘Thank you, Henry,’ I say in a soft tone, as if I don’t want him to hear me, but seeing how the corners of his mouth curl up, I know that he heard me.

The game is pretty simple: there is a host who asks a question and you have to answer it. It’s fairly easy and I almost feel like they are taking it easier because of me.

Every team has a button in front of them and ours meows like a cat.

‘What country won the first FIFA World Cup in 1930?’ the hosts asks.

Meow. ‘Uruguay,’ I answer, as I retract my hand from the button. .

Even the host seems impressed. ‘That is correct.’ On the screen behind him, I see that we are actually first now, with only one point, but it feels nice to be ahead of someone else, because of what I did. ‘Okay, next question. Which boxer was known as “the Great—’

Meow. That is not because of me, but because Henry slammed the button a little harder. Guess he doesn’t know how strong he is. ‘Muhammed Ali,’ he answers.

‘Correct.’ Why does the host not seem impressed now? Okay, this is nothing to be surprised about, so I should stop letting the subtle differences in reaction get to my head. It’s true, I’m pretty stupid according to the public.

And besides, we only had two questions and I had one right.

‘What animals have the longest gestation period?’

No one presses the button and I tap Henry on his leg. He looks at me and I usher him closer. ‘What is a gestation period?’

‘Pregnancy,’ he whispers, his hot breath against my lips, that start to tingle as a response. I shouldn’t get distracted because of that.

Meow. ‘An African Elephant,’ I answer.

We are ahead now with three points. I can’t help but beam with pride. Maybe the public will think a little more highly of me now.

‘What does HTTP stand for?’

Meow. ‘HyperText Transfer Protocol,’ Henry says with a smile.

‘What year was the first model of the iPhone released?’

Meow. ‘2007,’ Henry answers with ease.

He knows a lot, I think to myself. I look to the side for a second and I wonder what goes on in his head, right now and basically every single time we’re just alone. He can look at me in a way that I can’t explain and I don’t even understand why he looks at me like that.

We continue to answer multiple questions correctly and the meow is one of the only sounds that we hear. By the time we reached ten points, I discovered that Charlie and Jennifer’s sound is a bark and when we reached fifteen points, I found out that the Biebers’ sound was a chicken.

Who were the founders of Adidas? (Rudolf and Adolf Dassler—I knew this one.) Some Greek mythology questions that I knew nothing about, but Henry did and he seemed so giddy to explain it all to us, though no one seemed cared, besides me probably, because I could listen to this man for days on end. Together we knew the seven world wonders, who the Danish author was who wrote many fairy tales and they even asked us what Superman’s birth name was…

While Superman is in the room.

We are way ahead of everyone with twenty points, Charlie and Jennifer have ten (who knew that babies weren’t born with kneecaps—for knowing that alone I feel like they should win) and Justin and Hailey have nine. But the next question we can think about for a few seconds and it’s worth fifteen points. So we either become second or first, depends on how well we do.

‘Name these chemical elements of the periodic table. Ge, Sn, Rf, K and Ba.’

Henry places his arm on the back of my chair and leans over. Gosh, he is really close. Not that I’m complaining, but feeling his body heat so close to mine and it’s not even acting… Why does that make me feel all sorts of things?

‘Ge is Geranium,’ he whispers, ‘and Ba and Barium.’

‘K is Potassium,’ I say in a soft tone. ‘So we only have Sn and Rf left. Sn is Tin.’

‘You know a lot,’ he says with a smile.

Does he mean that? Did he just say I know a lot? Me, the Hollywood ditz? ‘Rf is Rutherfordium,’ I whisper.

Meow. Henry presses the button and he looks at me, non verbally asking me if I want to answer this, but I simply shake my head. He names them in order and everyone seems impressed, but before they can give him a compliment (I know the host is desperate to call him ‘Handsome Henry with a Brain’ again. He did it seven times already and it was annoying the first time, let alone the seventh time), Henry says: ‘I only knew Geranium and Barium. Adelaide is the real genius here.’

◎ ◎ ◎

It’s twelve ‘o clock when Henry and I are in bed, both staring at the ceiling. Normally I’m in bed long before he is, but today we’re awake in the bed together. The only reason why I get into bed early, is that I hope I can fall asleep before he gets in.

But not today.

‘I have something I want to ask you,’ Henry says. ‘I’ve been thinking about this for awhile.’

‘Okay?’

‘Are you dyslexic?’

He could’ve given me a slap across my face and that wouldn’t have shocked me as much as this question. I push myself up, so I’m sitting. ‘Why?’

‘Just wondering.’

I simply shrug. ‘I don’t know. I never got tested back in school.’

‘Why not?’ Henry sits up straight as well and from the corners of my eyes, I see him placing his pillow on the headboard. That one curl covers part of his forehead and it’s almost a signature look when we are in the cottage.

‘The teachers didn’t care and we didn’t have a lot of money,’ I explain. It feels weird and uncomfortable to open up to him, however on the other hand, it feels right to have this out in the open. ‘And I don’t want to get tested now,’ I whisper. ‘I’m an adult, I can manage.’ I finally force myself to look over my shoulders, only to see that same soft look in his eyes, that I almost grown accustomed to. ‘What?’

‘Nothing,’ he whispers. ‘I just want to say to you that I underestimated you and—’

I can’t help but chuckle. ‘You are not the only one,’ I interrupt him. ‘It’s okay.’

‘No, Adelaide, it’s not okay.’

The sternness in his voice, make me turn around on the mattress completely, so I can look at him. ‘I did it myself, Henry. Really, it’s okay, don’t worry about it.’

Henry moistens his lips, before he clears his throat. ‘Then I won’t worry about it. Just know that I—now—think very highly of you.’

‘You don’t need to,’ I say as a frown appears between my brows. ‘Henry, what is really the case?’

He rubs his face, resists even and he actually looks really frustrated. ‘It’s just that I’m trying to figure you out, but I can’t seem to actually get to know you.’

‘There is not much to know,’ I say, but he shakes his head and says: ‘There is. You are so intriguing, Adelaide, you don’t even know it.’

I don’t really know what to say. He thinks there is much to know about me and that I’m intriguing? ‘Oh.’

‘And I get that it can be hard to open up, truly, I know, but… We have to work together. Wouldn’t it be better if we knew something about each other?’

Okay, that’s a fair point. ‘You tell me something first,’ I say to him.

‘Like what?’ he says, genuinely looking relieved that I’m going along with it.

I tilt my head as I look in his eyes as I take in the brown spot on his left eye, that is surrounded by a beautiful blue. ‘You want to win?’

Henry frowns, probably confused by my question, but when he sees I’m dead serious, he nods. ‘Of course,’ he says, ‘I’m competitive. Why was that your question?’

‘Because now I know that I have to work extra hard not to let you down. It doesn’t really matter to me if I win or not.’

‘You won’t let me down, Adelaide.’

‘I did already,’ I say, ‘and don’t try to convince me otherwise. Now, what do you want to know about me?’

He tilts his head and says: ‘You have a nickname?’

And he thought my question was a bit weird? I snort. ‘My parents called me Dasom. That’s my Korean name.’

‘Really?’ he asks. ‘I didn’t know that.’

No one knows that. ‘But other than that I don’t really have a nickname. People call me Park every now and then, but that’s it.’

‘What does Dasom mean?’

‘Love,’ I whisper. ‘Because, as my parents always say: I was born out of pure love.’ I roll my eyes, because I hate the cliché, but thankfully I was born out of love. It meant that I was welcomed in their lives, though they were poor and barely had anything.

‘That’s sweet,’ he says. ‘So, no one called you Addy for example?’

‘Come to think of it, Keanu Reeves called me Addy every now and then. Especially when we were doing stunts for the movie and he had to encourage me.’

‘Can I call you Addy?’

The fact that he asks me if he can call me Addy, shows me that he is so much more than the news outlets let him to be. Of course, he is handsome, but there is more than just looks. He is intelligent, caring and a real gentleman. Though he can look slightly intimidating, he is a big softie. ‘I would like that, Henry.’

As much as I want to sleep, I can’t. I’m too awake for that, maybe because of the thrill that we are actually ahead of the others now. Who knows how long that will last…

‘You want to do something?’ Henry suggests. ‘I’m not as tired as I figured I would be.’

‘Like what?’

‘You want to swim?’

◎ ◎ ◎

Henry is already swimming laps in the pool, as I try to build up the courage to actually walk out of the door to the pool. I have a large towel wrapped around me, to hide my red and white striped bathing suit.

I can do this, I think to myself. I wore a skimpy bikini for a movie, I’ve been naked on sets with the crew around me. This isn’t too hard.

I walk out of the cottage and see that Henry leans with his under arms on the edge of the pool, placing his chin on one of them. ‘There you are,’ he says with a smile.

I dip my toe in the water and start to shiver, goosebumps appearing on my entire body. ‘It’s cold,’ I mumble. ‘And it looks too deep.’

‘It’s not. It’s only one meter sixty.’

‘I’m one fifty,’ I retort. ‘What if I drown?’

‘I’m not letting that happen,’ he says. ‘I promise you, Addy.’

The use of that nickname, makes my feel all sorts of things. Normally I’m not too keen on nicknames, but I could get used to this.

I fold the towel, before I place it on the floor and I sit on the edge of the pool, as my legs dangle in the cold water. Henry bumps his elbow against the side of my thigh and he asks: ‘Ready?’

Maybe it’s because of the dim lighting of the lanterns outside, or the reflection of the water, but he looks even more ethereal than other times. My eyes fall on his beautifully formed lips, that curl up in a smile.

‘I am,’ I say.

He stands in front of me and I place my hands on his broad and tight shoulders. I shimmy myself off the edge, into the cold water. Despite the fact that his large hands in the dips of my waist, makes me all warm from the inside, the water is really cold. Henry starts to laugh, probably because I scrunch up my entire face like I’m a Sharpei dog. ‘Maybe you should keep breathing, because I can’t have it that you pass out on me twice within one week.’

‘Shut up,’ I shiver, as I hold on tightly to his shoulders. ‘You’re not going to let me go, right?’ I ask, just in case.

‘Of course not,’ he whispers.

For a second I envision we’re having a moment together, but then I realize that’s not the case, because he takes a step backwards and we are further away from the edge. I can still reach over to my left, so I’m directly at the other edge, but it does terrify me a bit.

‘Henry,’ I say.

‘Yes?’

‘I’m scared.’

‘I know,’ he tells me, squeezing my waist to let me know that he is there. ‘But there is no need for you to be scared. You just have to grow comfortable in the water and that takes time.’ Henry’s voice is soft and I have to take a deep breath. ‘You’re doing great.’ He slowly takes more steps backwards and smiles at me, as if he knows that that comforts me.

After two laps of him walking backwards and me moving my legs (I don’t know why I do that, but it just happens), I feel more and more accustomed to the water. Still, I don’t want to let go of Henry for one single second, because the fear that I might drown is still there. For the other two laps, he wraps his arm around my waist, as I hold onto the edge and my other arm around his shoulder.

Henry lifts me on the edge, before he hoists himself next to me. He reaches behind him to grab my towel and wrap it securely around my shoulders. ‘How was it?’ he asks.

‘It was good,’ I admit. ‘I mean, I still don’t want to swim myself, but it’s not that scary anymore.’ I look to the side, only to discover that he was already looking at me. From the looks of it, he is looking at my lips, but I must’ve hallucinated that. ‘Thank you,’ I say, to break the silence between us.

‘You’re welcome,’ he says, his voice low.

I smile, before I stand up and hurry back inside. I was making that up, wasn’t I? He wasn’t totally staring at my lips?

Or was he?

◎ ◎ ◎

After the first episode was aired, showing the first few days of the duos together, these were the favorite tweets of the producers of ‘the Celebrity Project’

Taglist: @thelastsock // @jolly-polly // @henrythickcavill // @maan24 // @diegos-butt / @agniavateira // @onlyhenrys // @turkish276 //

#henry cavill #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill x oc #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fandom #the alluring charm of henry cavill #henry cavill x actress #henry cavill x adelaide park

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whenrockwasyoung19 · 4 years

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It’s Time to Talk about a Bespectacled Elephant in the Room

I’ve been in the Beatles fandom for 8 and a half years. I have had a Beatles blog for the entirety of those 8 and a half years, and I have watched as discourse about these four men evolve. The discourse inside and outside the fandom has become so toxic that I don’t think I can engage with it in the same way that I could before. Let me explain.

When I entered this fandom 8 and a half years ago, it was in 2012, quite an infamous year in tumblr history. That was the pique of “”cringey”” fandom culture. The Beatles fandom was as steeped in fandom culture as any other fandom. I know this because I was part of two of the top of fandoms at the time, Doctor Who and Sherlock. Believe me, I have seen cringe.

The fandom at the time was totally aware of the John, Paul, George, and Ringo’s flaws as individuals, but most fans tended to simply enjoy Beatles fandom as if it were the 60s. Some might call it ignorant bliss. If you asked me at the time, I’d have said it was self-aware ignorant bliss--if that even makes sense. At the time, there wasn’t a person with a Beatles icon who hadn’t heard the line “John Lennon beat his wife.” Everyone knew it, but everyone also knew the real story, and so everyone just made peace with it. As a result, people didn’t think about every bad thing the Beatles ever did on a daily basis. It was more like a once-a-month kind of thing. Otherwise, fandom discourse was quite fun and relaxed. There were no shipping wars, no one fought over who was the best Beatle, everyone gushed over the Beatles wives, and we all just had fun with fics and fan art.

Of course, in this period, people engaged in conversations about one bespectacled Beatles problematic behavior. These conversations usually came from outside of the fandom. It was usually randos coming into the tags or into someone’s ask box and ranting about John Lennon’s violent behavior. Some of it came from within the fandom. Some people really didn’t like John and gave others shit if they listed John as their favorite Beatle. A lot of the discourse boiled down to: ‘hey, I see you like John Lennon. You should know that he beat his wife. And now that you know that, you should feel bad about ever liking him in the first place.’ And the response was often, ‘Actually, John Lennon didn’t beat his wife. They weren’t even married at the time. And also he didn’t beat her, he slapped her once in the face, and then never did it again.’ No one’s minds were changed. The fans had made their peace, and the antis came off as cynical and pretentious.

When Dashcon happened, and Tumblr took a hard look at its cringey fandom culture, the Beatles fandom evolved as well. The fandom became, frankly, less fun. It no longer felt like a group of people who found the Beatles decades after the 60s and were fangirling like it was 1965. There was still some of that left, but a lot of it kind of faded. So, most fandom interactions were reblogging pictures of the Beatles from the 60s and various interview clips and quotes. But the barrage of antis never really went away, and the response didn’t evolve.

Then, the advent of cancel culture came on. I always waited for the Beatles to get, like, officially canceled, but I also felt they were uncancel-able at the same time. Let me explain. I have been a Beatles fan primarily in an online space, rarely engaging with fans in real life. But I have met fans who are life-long Beatles fans, people who are a lot older than us and who’s fandom isn’t tied to the internet. They don’t give a shit about any of our discourse. They may or may not have heard it before, but they seem totally indifferent to all of it. I’m sure most of them have never heard ‘Mclennon’ before. These are the people that flock to see Paul McCartney and Ringo Starr in concert (and pay astronomical prices for it). These are the people who go to record shops and buy vinyl. These are the people I run into at flea markets who buy up all the Beatles merch before I can even arrive (true story). So, the Beatles will never be canceled because there will always be people who love the Beatles and don’t engage with online discourse. Rarely said, but thank god for Gen-X.

As cancel culture took over the internet, fandoms changed. It’s not as noticeable in fandoms without problematic favs. For instance, I’m also steeped in the Tom Holland fandom, and that boy is a little angel who has done no wrong. No one has discourse about the unproblematic boy who plays an equally unproblematic character. But in fandoms with ‘problematic favs’ the mood has shifted. I’m also in the Taron Egerton fandom. Taron Egerton, for those who only follow me for my Beatles stuff, is a genuinely sweet and kind person who has had zero scandals in his six year career. There were some rumblings when he was cast as Elton John, and some people took issue with the fact that he’s a straight man playing a gay man. This discourse seemed to die quickly as a whole lot of straight people played gay people in that same year (Olivia Coleman as queer Queen Anne, Emma Stone as her queer lover, Rami Malek as Freddie Mercury). Why jump on this boy who at the time was still technically on the rise. He’s not exactly the same target as someone like Scarlett Johansson who has her pick of roles. Taron doesn’t have quite that some power in Hollywood, and I think most people made peace with the fact that this was a big role for him, and it’s not really fair to take that away from him. So, all in all, the closest thing to a scandal was something that died pretty much on arrival.

That was until this summer when everything changed. When George Floyd was murdered, celebrities flocked to social media to mourn his loss. Taron’s social media account was silent. For weeks, Taron said nothing about Black Lives Matter or Floyd’s death. This caused outrage in the fandom. Many raced to defend him, starting a hashtage #IstandwithTaron. Others sought to tear him down and anyone who supported him. The kind of mania this one incident caused tore through an otherwise peaceful fandom. What I saw was two sides in a total panic. The antis were people who once had faith that Taron was a good person and were now questioning that. Andthe defenders were people who desperately wanted him to be a good person and were afraid that he wasn’t. In essence, both sides could feel Taron about to get canceled. The defenders wanted to stop it, the antis wanted to ride that wave.

What this long drawn out Taron example is meant to convey: is that cancel culture has put fandoms on edge. One’s fav has to be perfect, otherwise it can jeopardize the existence of the entire fandom. I’ll admit, I was afraid that I’d be some kind of pariah for standing by Taron through all of this. My actions were to basically reason with the antis but still defend Taron. I defend him mostly because I felt that his silence was the result of a needed social media absence and that trying to shame him back onto social media was an invasion of privacy. But I was genuinely afraid that he would get canceled, and the fun of the Taron fandom would be lost.

In the Beatles fandom, it often feels like the Beatles, mainly John, have already been canceled. I see this coming from two different sources: antis from outside of the fandom and antis within the fandom. The outside antis are just the same as the ones from 2012. These are people who like to drop in that John Lennon beat his wife, posting this in the tag (which violates an ancient tumblr real by the way--no hate in the tags).

The antis outside the fandom speak to a larger anti-John Lennon sentiment online. I see references to John Lennon ‘beating his wife’ on Tiktok and twitter. The tone of anti-John Lennon posts has shifted. Before, it felt like the antis were being smug but also argumentative. They wanted to have a conversation about this bit of info they read on Reddit with no context. Now, “John Lennon beating his wife” is practically a meme. It’s a running joke online that John Lennon was a wife beater. I can’t look on my instagram explore page because every so often a John Lennon beats his wife meme will pop up amongst the other, normal, memes.

This change in discourse suggests that the internet has just accepted this as fact now. I should note that back in 2012, it seemed as if few people knew this fact. The fandom knew it, and these random antis knew it, but few others did. Now, because of how common these memes are, it seems to be widespread knowledge.

Consequently, the Beatles fandom, who used to ward off attacks from antis, seems to have given in. I recently saw a post from a Beatles blog (had the URL and icon and everything) that confessed they felt guilty for listening to the Beatles, and I’ve seen similar sentiments expressed in the fandom. People tend to put disclaimers in posts about John or even all four that John is an ‘awful man.’ It seems like the self-aware ignorant bliss has completely gone away. Occasionally, I still see posts joyously talking about Mclennon or reblogs of old photos from the 60s. But the culture has shifted.

Online, it no longer feels comfortable to be a Beatles fan. It feels like you have to own up to 8 decades of mistakes by four men you’ve never met. And, I should note, this is kind of how it feels to be a fan of anything right now. Taron is not canceled today, but he could be tomorrow. It’s this pervasive feeling of guilt that the person you’re supporting may or definitely has or is doing something wrong.

I’ll admit this uncomfortable feeling has expanded into other parts of my fandom life. I listen to their music, and I feel elated--the way I always have. Then, I get these intrusive thoughts which sound like all the worst parts of Twitter combined. It wasn’t always like this. Back in 2012, when I knew almost nothing about them, I saw them as four young men who were full of happiness, love for another, and talent. Back then, listening to their music was exciting and joyous. Sometimes, I fear that I can never feel that way again. Next year, when I finally go to Liverpool, will I be filled with excitement or guilt?

I say all this for a few reasons. One, I love John Lennon. I appreciate all the good he did for the world not just as a musician and an artist but also his advocacy and charity work. I love him, and a part of me will always love him, but observing the change in discourse has enlightened me as a historian. Part of my job is to observe people’s legacies, and John’s is perhaps the most interesting legacy I’ve ever observed. When he died, he was hailed as a saint. But tall poppy syndrome set in, and the antis started. This culture grew and grew to the point where it seems to, at least among the younger generation, taken over the sainthood.

But as a historian and a fan, I have never seen the saint or the devil. I’ve only seen the man, the incredibly flawed man. The thing that these antis never understand is that John Lennon was painfully aware of his own flaws to the point where it made him all the more self-destructive. In essence, his past mistakes caused him to make additional mistakes. But John, aware of his own flaws, always tried to change and was often successful. I’ve talked about this before, but John demonstrated that he was capable of being a good person, like properly so, again and again. After he struck Cynthia, he never hit her again. His shortcomings as a father to Julian weren’t repeated with Sean. He worked on his drinking, his drug addiction, and his anger, trying to overcome those demons till the day he died. By all accounts, the John Lennon that died in 1980 is not the John Lennon who struck Cynthia Powell at school. That John Lennon was living a cleaner, healthier life. He was a better father to both his sons by that point, and was trying to repair his relationship with Julian. He was a good husband to Yoko and saw himself living a long and happy life.

John Lennon cannot and should not be boiled down to just his flaws. It’s one thing as a fan to acknowledge that John is a flawed human being (news flash: they all are), but he is also much bigger than that.

So once again, why am I writing this long, rambling post, once again talking about John Lennon’s virtues? Because if I can’t engage with healthy discourse about the Beatles and John Lennon, then I can’t engage with discourse on the topic at all. So, I probably will post less Beatles stuff because I find it hard to go through the tags or even my dash (well, I can’t really go through my dash anymore for other reasons I’m not going to get into right now). If any of my followers have noticed a lot of Taron posts lately, it’s not just because I love Taron, it’s because Taron’s tag is pretty much the only location on tumblr I feel 100% comfortable in. Any foray into John or the Beatles tags becomes uncomfortable and guilt-ridden quickly.

So, I probably will post less about the Beatles until I can find a blog or a tag that doesn’t give me bad vibes. My fandom will likely outgrow tumblr and the internet. I have a ton of Beatles books; maybe I’ll rely on those. I am doing official scholarly research on them now. Maybe that will be my outlet. I’m sorry if I post less about them now, but it’s really for my own well-being.

#John lennon #the beatles

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invitedeath · 3 years

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SEPHIROTH — relationship & plotter call.

hello lovely isolians! it’s been actually ages since i made my first one, or my second one, so i’m coming back with new vigour & hopefully some new ideas to tempt you all into friendship ( or...enemy...ship) with sephiroth!

so liking this post means that you are 100% down with interacting with me in some fashion! ways this might happen may be... → me sending you im’s / tumblr asks to plot or chat! i can be quite a talkative person as a forewarning, as i love discussing rp things as well as getting to know my rp partner! → if we are already friends on discord or twitter, i might message you that way to ask you about plots or ideas or to run things by you. → exchanging ask memes / meme day things that might be a bit more personal than a general sentence meme. → possible random starters or musings dedicated to your muse, sometimes i get sudden inspiration for these things! i will always check first that you’re okay with taking on a new thread, but yes this is for just... if i get inspired & want to put something up for you! → general tomfoolery and shenanigans in character ( and ooc if you like )

you can contact me via the im system here, by the /ask feature or you can ask for my discord/twitter if you prefer those. just let me know. discord is the most private however so we’d need to chat a bit more elsewhere first just for my comfort! i am in the isola discord sever however so we can totally talk in that server for a bit too!

FRIENDS.

↪ honestly friendships aren’t typically on the agenda for him. he is arrogant beyond belief and considers everyone to be weaker than him or to some degree unworthy of his time or energy. he really does not have any interest emotionally in anyone besides himself, instead he is far more likely to use and discard people when they are no longer needed. HOWEVER, in 2020 sephiroth underwent quite a big character development stage, essentially his long-term goal came to a head and it backfired pretty back when he got all his powers back, so while he’s super strong again now, he’s also semi-content (i guess) with living in isola for a while, if only so he can figure out how the multiverse works (meta, i know). he talks to people now (wow!) and engages in mostly philosophical conversations, about... life. death. etc.

↪ i am down to... vague villain-alliance type deals with fellow power players here. he wont consider your muse a friend, but rather a pawn or even a means to an end, that end being his goal of generally using this island for his means, apologies. preferably the intellectual, over-powered, edgy types will probably gravitate towards him more, but i’m willing to throw anything at the wall to see what sticks. he’s not a nice guy, by any means, but it would be interesting to see how he has to play the game here to his advantage until he regains powers. i especially would like to interact with other villains who are kind of just chilling, maybe they’re veterans in spirale also and they can share a glass of wine over watching all the citizens running around like ants. we could also do a murder if you are into that.

↪ there are some cases where he might engage in conversation with non-villain types and these would likely be far more dialogue-heavy threads including metaphorical topics or debates. the conversations of life, death, mortality, good vs evil, frailty of existence, legacy, power and corruption, calamities, birthright and betrayal are just some of the topics possible to arise in discussion. that being said, whilst these topics would be of interest to him, the character themselves must meet his standard of what he considers worthy of his time eg. those just willing to argue with him will bore him whereas someone curious to his nature might be treated to an actual conversation. over time this has opened up into most people being capable of talking to him. he has less patience for over-eager plucky types, but anyone with a respectable manner who likes talking a lot will probably find an interesting conversation partner in this... ONLY SLIGHTLY CHILLED sephiroth. he’s not totally chill, he’s just a lil chill.

↪ warriors, outcasts, villains, intellectuals, fellow puppet-master type villains especially, those he ‘befriended’ in past events, perhaps even neighbours to his castle would all be likely connections. friends of those he has worked alongside or met, or those wishing to seek great power and know of his existence might seek him out also, but yes... ““““friends”“““ is a very difficult term for him. he’s getting better.

→ his most recent developments see him as a far more casual version of his canon self, over a year of living as close to a “domestic life” as possible have meant that whilst he is aloof and cold, he is also far more likely to be out and about, buying wine at some creepy gas station at 4:30am for example. he chats when he’s in the mood and might even stick around to cause some chaos for the sake of boredom eating him alive. so whilst he is still very much a dangerous inhabitant here in spirale, sephiroth is currently Domesticated somewhat.

ENEMIES.

↪ heroes of all shapes and sizes might feel threatened by the ominous presence of a monster who seems inclined to side with chaos as opposed to peace. he’s not outright starting fires here but he is present in the more morbid moments of isolian discourse, an omen of death lingering on the sideline. he has his plans and he may just mock you with them, but in general since he does and WILL cut down npcs ( or players ) alike, he makes for the perfect villain. BE WARY he has all of his powers unlocked and knows the island well. fighting him would not guarantee your victory, especially if you are a freshly applied character.

in feb 2020 he almost brought chaos to spirale too so i’m sure anyone holding a grudge or wary of a potential threat like that would be very aggro towards him.

↪ he has traumas. plenty of them. some of them originate from labs and white coats, meaning he might just view you as an enemy if you’re a scientist or someone who dabbles in human experimentation. his reasons are his own, but let’s just say that if you consider him a good candidate for poking and prodding with scientific equipment, you may just lose an arm.

↪ i LOVE fight threads especially really gritty, bloody types. i would prefer to plot these out so we know what’s going on beforehand, but feel free to develop these with me honestly i love a good old classic villain hero showdown. he’s less likely to get into these without a good reason but if we do one, the winner is randomly determined via generator to make it fair if your character is also uncapped!

→ police/law enforcers/general crime stoppers might remember him for causing a bit of trouble in the past! insert how bad me be gif. try and ??? get him to apologise i guess. arresting sephiroth sounds like the plot of a funny movie.

LOVERS.

↪ this man has a bf now, can you believe it? 2021...isola gay rights.

MISC.

↪ pawns and such would be a fun dynamic later. his general presence is pretty terrifying, so it wouldn’t be a stretch if you have an appropriate muse for them to be fearful enough to carry out some little tasks for him. this might be more common later on, but i’m down to discussion for it currently!

↪ places you may find him can include: ↪ near his residence ( personal housing; castle in the mistwood ) ↪ fibonacci ward ( levels 3 and 4 especially due to the museums and things. but also the lowest levels, he tends to wander around there as if searching for something... feel free to try and figure out what it is ) ↪ golden ward ( the university if only to borrow books from the library, he can read there for days at a time without sleep or food. he reads all kinds of things, both fiction and non fiction. ) ↪ archimedes ward ( pretty much everywhere in this ward, it’s my favourite. he enjoys music and art sometimes. hit me with that biblical shit. ) ↪ the mistwood ( 100% down to be that cryptic creature that leads you from your path to your likely doom ) ↪ the city of yesteryear ( typically the underground areas, just investigating really. any strange occurrences would likely draw him there as would any presence of a strong power. ) ↪ atop skyscrapers, looming at the ‘edge’ of the world we can currently explore, typically more active at night, perhaps at the scene of a murder / attack ( plotted ), if he’s feeling extra ballsy he might be found in a bar but its very rare. very VERY rare, wandering broken buildings, invading scientific facilities or buildings. he’s not going to be found in busy, socially strained areas basically.

↪ i’m down for any ideas you might have too for plots so feel free to just message me if nothing here caters!

STATS PAGE | APPLICATION | PLOTTING PAGE

#isola relationship call #isola plotting call #cw // long post #AAAYYY

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rachellevic · 4 years

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As I sit here, thinking about the end of supernatural, reading all the beautiful tributes and articles, I feel a very great sense of loss. Not because I believe this is the end, the real end, that’s not possible with the Winchesters, but there is something much deeper going on and I can’t quite put it into words, so maybe that’s why I’m writing it down.

Maybe it’s a little bit selfish, maybe I’m just not ready to watch to ‘the end’. Rarely has a show done this to me, and believe me, I have a ‘brand’ of television that I get into. Confession, I only started watching supernatural because someone told me that Kim Manners was a producer on it and I was a huge, I MEAN HUGE, fan of the X-files, and I didn’t feel this way when that show ended. It was also several season in before I started watching supernatural because, truth be told, I very strongly dislike ‘vampires and werewolves’ stories and what media has done to lore and historical context; I’m looking at you Bram Stoker, you started this and opened the door to things like sparkles and Stockholm Syndrome and that’s not okay. But Supernatural had something that I had been missing in TV, in life, and I very quickly became a fan...thank you for fixing vampires and werewolves by the way.

I like endings. I like beginnings. I love the journey to get from beginning to end. Maybe I am feeling something more than a loss of a show, but a loss of a way of life, a path, the road...I don’t know. To be honest Supernatural is one of the last shows that I have tuned in to on the regular, week after week, to watch because the way we watch TV has changed. The way people experience a serial show has changed. I don’t know if Supernatural would have been what it was if it had found a life on a streaming service to begin with. But they didn’t exist, or were just in their infancy when supernatural started. What I will miss the most, I think is the episodes in between. Rarely do you find a show that can start a plot episode one and carry it over many season, reinventing itself, playing off its past and building a future. It has built such a future that regardless of how it end, whether they die or they live, they will always live, they will always live in the stories that we know and the stories that we will tell. Jared and Jensen will go on to do other things, as they had done other things before this, but they will always be Sam and Dean and whenever you see their faces, your first thought will be Sam and Dean. Like Anthony Hopkins will always be Dr. Hannibal Lector (so will Mads Mikkelsen, just saying) and Colin Firth will always be My Mr. Darcy. Misha, though an antagonist to us all, is literally an angel in real life. I said what I said, change my mind.

This thing we call Gish has it��s own life now, and will continue to do great things, but we are deeply bound to our Supernatural roots. Looking back on 15 seasons, the good the bad and the ugly, (*cough* Bugs *cough*), what would the show have been if it were a max of 9 or 12 episodes a season? I mean, honesty, if you are a fan of Lucifer, who has watched it on Fox and now on Netflix, it just isn’t ringing the same. It’s good, but there is something missing and I think what that is, is the passage of time. The episodes in between the big plots, the monsters of the week, and the goofy playful, ‘I killed Hitler’ And ‘Sam hit a dog’ moments. We know a milk run is never just a milk run, that life is big and bold and in your face, even though it seems a little slow right now, and that sometimes, staring a books and computers too long is going to force you out into the world to just look for some trouble. Supernatural has taught me a lot about life and what is out there in the world, the good, the bad, the people, this planet we live on and some of our fundamental flaws as humans. Nothing is ever going to be perfect, but if we work at it, we can touch perfection. It’s the moments and the anticipations, it may also be the glimpses of joy when the world is crashing in around us.

It has been a long time, 15 seasons, 320 plus episodes, and yes it does feel like an end, but not for Supernatural, for the way we watched TV. I like a mini series as much as the next person but I don’t think you can do what supernatural did in a handful of episodes even if you can keep yourself going for as long. I don’t think a community like this will ever happen again in the same capacity because the interactions on episode night wont be the same if they just throw everything up onto a streaming service. We have been so lucky with this show and the cast’s willingness to interact with us as much as they do and recognize the power of the fandom as a force for good. Networks were always just looking for viewership, but seemed to forget that the viewers make or break a show and I feel like Supernatural found a way to take views and unite them, to appreciate the fans and see the power that people can have when hey get behind something. That wasn’t the networks doing, it was the cast, it was the fans, I think that is very obvious. So, maybe this is where my feeling come from, maybe I just don’t see how a show doing as well, doing so much good outside of the show, making money, bringing in viewers, being the longest running show of its kind, could just be cut off when there could have been so much more to be done...Do I blame the network for the fall of TV and that they are grasping at straws for an old way of viewership? Yes, yes I do. I believe that they see the streaming services have been a mighty blow to their structure, that it has made TV so much more accessible and frankly so much less annoying with no commercials, but what I think the streaming services of the world have wrong is the limited number of episode and the anticipation of a new episode week after week. Sure, I hate a hiatus as much as the next person, and when I want to watch 15 season of supernatural all in one shot, I do have the DVDs so F you Netflix for taking it down and putting it back up and taking it down again only to put it back up, I have the collection and I can watch it any time I want! But, where is my live viewing party, the gasps and shock you can literally hear over twitter. The standing and singing Carry On when you know it’s going to play. You don’t get that binge watching a show on Netflix...Supernatural is so much bigger than the money maker it was for the networks.

Truth be told, I’m kind of over TV. I rarely turn the thing on in the off season. I didn’t watch anything new this whole pandemic, but instead went back to the familiar, the comfortable. I marathoned all of the X-files in order from beginning to end with two movies, two event series, and cried over their Kim Manners tribute. (Word to the wise, it may not be the best show to watch in a pandemic with all it’s government conspiracies and alien viruses...but the 90’s fashion in the early seasons, and so many actors who we know and love from supernatural were just babies back then, and yes almost everyone is in it. Baby Crowley, Baby Lucifer, Baby Meg (First Meg not Second Meg...sorry Rachel!)) And when I was finished with The X-files I jumped right back into season one of Supernatural.

Supernatural has kept me coming back every week, and it’s been around for almost half of my life (do we even count the years you can’t remember?). I’m about as old as Sam, I was in university when I started watching supernatural but I’m also an older child and I grew up on my dad’s music, and he had a classic car that I remember but my brother doesn’t and my dad isn’t with us anymore (2012). I found so much to connect with in Supernatural, like I relate to Dean on a level that I can’t even explain; from having a little brother to pie is the superior celebratory dessert - also pie for breakfast is totally okay not because there is fruit in it but because I’m an adult and I’ll do what I want! Go team free will! Does that make me a Dean girl? I don’t think so, because You can’t have one without the other. This whole time, it has been about family, more specifically siblings. Dean isn’t Dean without Sam and Sam isn’t Sam without Dean. But yes I’m a Dean girl for other reasons.

I don’t know, maybe it’s just me, I doubt it, but supernatural hits the family feels, it came into my life at a time of transition, it was there when my dad died, and has been there for 15 years. Thinking back to the ‘where do you see yourself in 10 years’ question, and not being at all where I’d thought I’d be, there has been something very constant in the inconsistencies of the road so far. Remember back in season one when we didn’t even know demons were a thing and now our biggest issue is literally Chuck? What a metaphor for adult life. For dealing with this crazy world and society and all the weird that seems to be oozing out of the pours of humanity. We’ve grown with this show. I’m not going to say grown up, because I sure didn’t get any taller in 15 year, but I did evolve, and maybe in some ways I have also digressed, but we keep pressing forward because no one else is going to save my world but me.

Supernatural reminds me of so many part of my life. I saw so much of the X-Files in there, the show that formed my younger years, and was devastated when Kim Manners passed away. There was a familiarity in Supernatural. The idea of seeing Sam and Dean come back, in event series (like the x-files) gives me hope, because we know that death isn’t really death for the Winchesters, but there will be something very profoundly missing from the world going forward. Maybe it’s the last of the magic, something that I’m holding onto in my adult life from time before, the spark that has managed to light up a really strange time, and I don’t just mean 2020. Maybe its a Millennial thing, I am an elder Millennial, right on the edge of two generations and I’m not even 40 yet. I’ve lived in the 80s, 90s, 2000s, 10s and here were are almost through the first year of the 20s (its going to be a very different kind of roaring 20s but um...very similar. History repeating itself a little too literally at times)

I don’t think the Supernatural Family is going anywhere any time soon, I don’t feel like I’m losing that, but this is an end for us. Maybe it’s the end of one book and the beginning of the next. Maybe it’s now our time to carry the legend of the Winchesters forward. I can only hope that somewhere, somehow we’ll see the world expand, the characters lives on; this isn’t the end of the road, but I guess the road can only go so far. I don’t want it to be over. I feel the loss, the lump in my throat, the tears in my eyes that I am fighting back even though no one is going to see them. It’s all good. All good things come to an end, or do they? Regardless, we’ll always have Tuesdays.

Carry on, everyone. I hope that you’ll be okay. Sorry for the long rambling journal entry that didn’t actually come to any real conclusions...thanks John! (Oh yeah, my dad’s name was John too...)

#supernatural #SPNFamilyForever #theroadsofar #lastdaysofSPN #theend

#supernatural #spnfamilyforever #supernatural family #spn final season #the end

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dearlydreadful · 5 years

Text

BTS Reactions

Scenario Requested: Reacting to their S/O being a famous youtuber/influencer as well as reacting to their fandom loving and supporting their relationship.

my favorite is taehyung

Jungkook

You bit your bottom lip as you watched your boyfriend’s face closely, waiting for any little signal. His expression was blank, giving you no reassurance. He was staring at his hands on top of the table.

You and Jungkook had been dating for several months. Initially, you had kept your gamer youtube fame a secret. You didn’t think it mattered much. Then the months started to fly by and you got deeper and deeper into the relationship. Guilt started to eat at you. You knew you had to tell him.

But now you were left with silence.

Jungkook hadn’t said a word since you explained yourself. You didn’t know what you could say to make it better, either. All you could do was wait for him to process it and watch his beautiful face be stone cold.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me sooner.” His angry voice startled you, causing you to jump a little.

“I-,” you didn’t have a reason to give him. You should have told him sooner.

Your hesitation seems to upset him more. “Did you not trust me?”

“No! That’s not what happened. I just - I didn’t.” You worry that finishing that sentence will push him over the edge.

“You didn’t what? Think it mattered? You thought I was just dumb enough to not care?”

Your mouth fell open. Your eyes start to burn as a lump formed in your throat. “We weren’t official in the beginning so I didn’t think it mattered. Things just happened quickly and I didn’t know when I should've told you. I’m sorry.” you said, as a little sob escaped you.

Jungkook’s warm hand cups your cheek, pulling your face upward so you have to look at him again. His expression has softened, eyes growing warm and inviting again.

He frowns. “Don’t cry, Jagi. I can understand your reasoning. I just - it hurts to think you would ever keep something from me or that you would be scared to talk to me. I want to be the person you can always come to and depend on.”

“I’m so sorry for making you feel like that. I promise it’s not true. I love you Jungkook, and I want to share everything about my life with you.” A few tears slipped out.

“Shhh. It’s okay Jagi, I love you too. We’re gonna talk this out and we’ll be just fine.” He rubbed his thumb against your cheek. “Now why don’t you show me a few of your videos? I wanna see if your good enough to beat me.” He chuckled and you could already feel the weight being lifted off your chest from seeing him smile.

“I’m not very good at them. But that’s kind of the point. People find me funny.”

Jungkook tilted his head back and laughed. It made you smile. “Of course you are, my love.”

Taehyung

You stopped in the middle of the kitchen, placing your hands on your hips and raising both of your eyebrows. You stared your boyfriend down.

“Why did you stop cooking, Jagi?” He widened his eyes innocently. You both knew he was anything but innocent.

After four months of dating, you had decided it was time to confess to Taehyung about what you did. You explained and let him watch a few episodes of your cooking channel. He said he fully supported you and loved how quirky you were in the kitchen.

He only had one request.

He begged you to let him be in an episode. You were unsure at first, knowing that his fans could start chaos quickly. But you pushed those thoughts aside and agreed. What could be more fun than doing your favorite thing in the world, cooking, with your favorite person in the world, Taehyung?

You should’ve known better.

“You know exactly why, Tae!” You kept your voice stern even as he pouted at you. “If you keep touching me like that, I’m going to have absolutely no footage to post after editing it all out!”

You had been in the kitchen for a good 30 minutes now. Just about every 3 or so, Taehyung would make an effort to touch you somehow. It started with just brushing hands by picking up the same item. Then it escalated to placing his hands on your hips to move you. The one that had been the last straw was a firm squeeze to your bum. It was like he didn’t even care that you were on camera.

He huffed. “Jagi!”

“Taehyung!” You huffed right back at him. He wrinkled his nose up but then sighed.

“I’m sorry, Jagi. I just can’t help it! I keep thinking about all the people that will watch this when you post it. Do you know how many male viewers you have? I’m sure it’s a ton. I just want to make sure everyone knows that you're mine.”

“The episode it literally called ‘Letting my boyfriend in the kitchen’. I think it’s pretty obvious that we’re a thing.”

He pouted, making your resolve break.

“I’ll make you a deal.” He perked up. “If you behave for the rest of filming, I’ll leave a clip of us kissing in the video. An innocent kiss!” You added the last bit as his expression went immediately mischievous.

He gave you his classic boxy smile that made your knees weak. “I promise, Jagi. Thank you.”

You rolled your eyes. “Come kiss me, you fool.”

Jimin

You weren’t sure how you felt about going public with your relationship with Jimin. It was hard enough to break the news to him about your youtube channel, where you posted covers and some original music, but the first thing he had wanted to do once he found out was to tell his fans.

A smile crept onto your face as you watched Jimin tell his fans in a vlive that he had big news. He was telling Army how much he loved them and that would never change, but he was also in love with someone else. Your insides went gooey.

He was going on about how talented and beautiful you were, being his perfect fit. He soon beckoned you over. You took a deep breath before joining him in the camera frame and gave a slight wave.

It only took a few seconds before the comments started pouring in. You were surprised but elated that almost all of them were positive. You looked at Jimin and your heartbeat stuttered. He had your favorite smile on. The smile that made his eyes crinkle almost closed and dimples to appear. You pressed your face into his shoulder to keep the camera from seeing how red your face went.

Jimin chuckled and placed a quick kiss to the top of your head. “Jagi, we should’ve done this ages ago!”

Namjoon

You held your breath as you watched Namjoon scroll through your instagram. Of course he had seen your normal day-to-day instagram, but this was different. This was a part of your travel blog, your baby.

You were hoping that with as much as Namjoon traveled, he would be spooked by it. Most guys tend to get that way. Something about all the places you’ve been and adventure you’ve had just scared them. They never understood that there was so much you hadn’t been able to do yet.

You chewed on your bottom lip as Namjoon set the phone down on the bed, turning towards you. The silence ticked by, slowly killing you.

“You’ve been to so many incredible places.” He started and your stomach sank. You’ve heard that sentence before, and It’s never ended well.

You sighed and dropped your gaze to your hands.

“I am so happy that we have the same love for the world and seeing every inch of it.” Your head snapped up to see him smiling at you. “I can’t believe I finally found someone who can enjoy traveling with me.”

“You want to travel with me?” You asked, jus to be sure.

Namjoon chuckled. “I would fucking love to travel with you, Y/N.” Your heart fluttered. “Just like I fucking love you.”

“I love you too, Joon.” You let your head fall onto his shoulder. You felt warm and like you were floating. You had been so nervous about showing him, but he only loved you more for chasing your dreams.

Hoseok

You had told Hoseok about your main source of income early on in your relationship. He had absolutely loved watching your videos while you edited them. His favorite part was making comments off camera to crack you up while you were recording. You always added the little snippets of your laugh into the final edit and it would just fill him with such pride.

You watched as Hoseok paced in front of you. He wasn’t the normal ball of sunshine today for you. Instead, he was a nervous wreck. After several discussions with Big Hit, everyone had finally agreed it would be acceptable to release the news of your relationship. Hoseok was having a panic attack about his fan’s reactions.

He loved Army so much, but he loved you too. You hated seeing how torn and flustered he was. You just wanted to hug him until he turned back into his usual chipper self.

“Hobi, will you please come sit down with me?” You whined, hoping it would help convince him.

He looked over with his lips pursed. You melted as his dimples popped out.

“It’s going to be okay. No matter how they take the news, we’re going to make it, okay?” You tried to reassure him but it didn’t do any good.

Hoseok sighed and slumped down beside you. “I mean, I know we’ll be okay. But I still want them to be happy for us, you know?”

“I know, Jagi.” You ran your hand through his hair and smiled as a little blush crept over his cheeks at the nickname. “Why don’t you go ahead and check twitter? I’m sure some kind of news has circulated on there already. Let’s just rip it off like a bandaid.”

Hoseok had his phone out before you could blink. He searched his own name on twitter which you could only smirk at. Posts flooded the page.

OMG LOOK HOW CUTE HOSEOK AND Y/N ARE

Thank you @BigHit for letting Hobi have his happiness with Y/N

Y/N is the angel Hoseok deserves!!

Your cheeks hurt from smiling so big. When Hoseok’s warm brown eyes met yours, your heart thumped hard.

“They love us!” He cheered. You barely had a second to cherish the moment with just the two of you before he was up and running off to scream at the other boys. He went running down the hall screaming the same sentence over and over. You hugged yourself as you thought the same sentence. They love us.

Yoongi

“Y/N!” You jumped at the sound of your boyfriend’s yell. He rarely raised his voice and with the added tension in his tone, it put you on edge.

“Yoongi, what’s wrong!” Your pitch was high as you stood up from the table. You didn’t have to wait to get your answer.

Yoongi came bustling into the room. His eyes were wide and he was panting. Terror took over your body. This was certainly odd behavior for your normally peaceful and carefree boyfriend.

“What’s going on? Are you hurt?” You eyed him up and down, but there was nothing that immediately stood out as wrong. Yoongi held his phone out toward you, piquing your confusion. “What,” the rest of your question died as your mouth went dry.

Yoongi had a youtube video pulled up on his phone. It was the one you had posted only a few days ago. Your eyes met his and you can only imagine your expression turned into a grimace.

“When exactly were you going to tell me?” Yoongi took his phone back once he saw the recognition in your eyes. He tossed it onto the table.

“I … don’t know.” The truth was you weren’t really planning on telling him. It wasn’t that you were ashamed or wanted it to be a secret. It just didn’t seem important to you.

“You don’t know!” His voice got louder as he turned away from you and pulled at his hair. “Do you even know how long I’ve been following your podcast? I’ve been listening to every episode since you started! And now! Now you’ve made a youtube and I finally get to see your face and it’s you! I’m dating my own idol!”

You blinked. “Idol?”

Yoongi rolled his eyes. “The way you dissect producers and artists is incredible. Of course you’re an idol to me!”

Your brain is mush while you try to take in all the words Yoongi is yelling. “You - you’ve been listening to me this whole time?”

“Yes!” He threw his hands up. “That’s why I’m freaking out!”

You giggled.

“Oh my god. We’re dating!” Yoongi quickly covered his mouth. A high pitched squeal erupted from him. Your chest swelled at how happy he was and how proud he was of you.

Seokjin

You were so nervous. You had been dating Seokjin for months now, but you had yet to tell him the truth about your youtube channel. Mostly because you were terrified how he would handle the news. He’s worldwide handsome, an international idol, but you were famous in your own right. What if he decided he didn’t want to continue dating you because he wanted someone lowkey?

You wiped your sweaty palms on your jeans. You loved Seokjin, even though you hadn't told him that yet either. He meant more to you than you had ever imagined. You had invited him for a nice dinner at home, not wanting to make a scene in public, good or bad.

“Jagi, I’m home!” You absolutely melted at the sound of Seokjin calling your apartment home.

“Come sit down!” You clasp your hands together to keep them from fidgeting. Your smile brightened as Seokjin’s head poked around the corner.

“Oh my god! You made me dinner! This looks delicious.” Seokjin quickly came in and gave a tender kiss to your temple before sitting down across from you.

“There’s something I want to show you, before we eat.” You licked your lips and took a deep breath. “You know how I told you I love to dance and I go to the studio all the time?”

“Of course.” Seokjin nodded enthusiastically. “Are you finally going to let me come watch you?” He teased with a chuckle. You chuckled a little too.

“Well, I actually record a lot of my sessions and put them on youtube.”

“Oh really?! Can we watch one?”

You nodded as you pulled your phone out. You picked one of your personal favorite choreo’s and handed the phone to Seokjin.

You watched Seokjin while he watched you. His eyes widened and his mouth fell open a little. You felt the pride swell a little at how impressed he seemed to be with your moves. It wasn’t until he turned your phone back right side up that your nerves came back. You watched as he processed all the comments and views on the video.

“This is incredible, Jagi. You could get really famous with these.”

You hesitantly smiled. “I kind of am.”

His eyebrows rose as he clicked to see the overall channel stats. His mouth fell open again. “Jagi!”

You went straight into panic mode. “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you! At first, I didn’t know how to. And then I was scared it would scare you away. I’m still scared I’ll scare you away.”

You stopped rambling as Seokjin’s laugh burst your bubble. “You’re so silly, Jagi. How could you ever scare me away? If anything, I’m even more amazed by you. This is incredible that you’ve done this all on your own. I would be surprised if someone doesn’t try to sign you soon.”

“Really? You’re not scared or mad at me?”

Seokjin reached over to hold your hand. “I think this is a great opportunity to confess something I’ve kept in for a while now.” His genuine smile and squeeze to your hand melted your heart. “I love you Jagi, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Your chest swelled as tears collected in your eyes. “I love you too.”

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angrylizardjacket · 4 years

Text

and everything that goes with it; i thank you all

A/N: So........ ash v. social media v. borhap cast i guess??? no-one asked for this, but i love them.

[aydtd]

It definitely starts as a joke.

“Hey, Ma Rocket?” Joe’s filming on his phone during a costume trial. With her arms crossed, Ash is partially hidden by Rami who’s spinning, the frills of his shirt fanning out around him. She’s frowning, thoughtful and pensive, but when Joe calls, she turns to him, eyebrows raised and expectant.

“Aye?” She’s not smiling, mind obviously still pondering over the fit of Rami’s costume, but it’s a clear enough acknowledgement that Joe’s response is clearly spoken through a smile.

“You responded; you’re the on-set mom now.” He declares. Ben laughs from somewhere off camera. “No takebacks.” Joe follows it up with, but Ash is already wearing a longsuffering look of resignation. The video cuts off before she can flip him off, but her movements are too deliberate to be misconstrued as anything else. The video is released almost a full year later, once the NDA has been lifted on the movie and Behind the Scenes pictures and videos start flooding out, but at that point the joke had moved beyond being just that.

Ash is not hard won; kindness and respect win her loyalty easily, it’s just that those traits are sometimes hard to come by in this industry, and she’s often dismissed because of her age, especially by younger performers. Bohemian Rhapsody is different, of course in part because they all know who she is by virtue of who they’re playing,

Joe’s not her favourite, not officially, and neither is Ben, much to his quiet disappointment; officially her favourite is Karen, and everyone else is tied second, but each of them holds a very special place in her heart and soon that begins to bleed into her social media, as well as some of theirs. Ash gets Instagram at Joe’s behest, only a month before the world premiere of Bohemian Rhapsody. It’s not as if she’s lived her life in obscurity, but come the turn of the millennium, her time at the edge of the spotlight had mostly come to an end, and she had been able to continue her work behind the curtain of pop culture for almost twenty years. This was all new, and unexpected, but she tried to take it in stride.

So she follows the cast, of course, follows Roger and Brian and the Official Queen page, as well as any of her friends or former clients she can find, and much to their horror, her children. Okay so her son isn’t horrified since he’s a public figure and he doesn’t use it for personal photos, but both her daughters have posted pictures of themselves in bikinis, and they thought they’d be safe since Roger followed them after the photos were posted, and at least he never went back and liked any of their old photos. Ash likes every single photoeach of her children has even posted, and all three are a little horrified.

That’s a cute one of us at Bonfire Night!! Is one of the many comments she leaves across the entire timeline of Astrid’s Instagram history, this particular one being from a 2014 photo, and so Astrid herself posts a screenshot of her mother blowing up her notification on her story.

@joemazzello what have you done

Joe subsequently posts a screenshot of a set of DMs between himself and Astrid on his own story.

Yesterday @ 3:47am

@astro_winnie: then tell him to change his oil

@astro_winnie: what a heathen

Today @ 1:21pm

@astro_winnie has mentioned you in her story

@joemazzello: What exactly are you accusing me of here?

@astro_winnie: mum didn’t have an Instagram yesterday 🤔🤔

@astro_winnie: I don’t know how but this is your fault

@joemazzello: she’s just having fun 😂😂

@astro_winnie: SHE LIKED MY BIKINI PIC FROM 2 YEARS AGO IM DYINg

The whole conversation is captioned ’Well anyways, go follow Ma Rocket @rockettaylor49’. The following picture on his story, posted ten minutes later, is a clarification that he isn’t actually Ash’s son, that it’s just a nickname. Even so, Ash’s actual son gets a photo with him at the premiere and caption it ‘brother from another mother (probably) @joemazzello’ and it goes viral on both Tumblr and Twitter.

Ash’s first official post is a picture of herself and Freddie, a Polaroid of the two of them aged beyond belief, taken in 1969. It’s the only photo she had when she was still in uni, and even she seems surprised to see it. Roger finds her staring at it, expression blank as she looks at where they keep it, pride of place, over the mantle. Without even asking, he understands, and he presses a kiss to her temple.

’@rockettaylor49: My favourite client helped me with this caption, he said I should remind you all that you can have more than one love of your life, and that that love isn’t necessarily romantic. To me, Freddie was family from the moment I met him, and I love and miss him every day. Freddie & Me. 1969.’

The post is flooded with love and support and more heart emojis than you can shake a stick at, and it’s not long before she’s amassed a large following. The only outlier in the initial comments comes from her second daughter, Cate.

@cate.astrophy: @rogertaylorofficial got upgraded to favourite client. nice.

The entire rest of the family, as well as a few random unknowns, like the comment.

Ash’s aesthetic is surprisingly clean; old photos from back in the day, old initial costume designs in sketchbooks, the paper gold with age and colours faded, but still with her initial notes scribbled neatly around the edges. The only modern things she posts are photos of shopping bags filled with fabric she’s just purchased, and photos of her friends and family.

There’s only one selfie on her page. Its Ash, poorly framed if only to keep Joe in focus behind her where he’s leaning against the door to a trailer and double over with laughter, with Ben glaring through the window at both of them.

’@rockettaylor49: Trixie gave me a selfie stick and Ben tried to confiscate it when he heard me say 'selfie’ so he was locked out. Usually I was with Roger on the other side of the door back when Deaky was locking us out of places… What a terrible influence he was!! But anyways here you all go, my first selfie. Me & Trixie featuring My Disrespectful Boy, Ben. 2018.’

The way the cast call her ‘Ma’ definitely started out as a joke, mostly between Joe, Ben, and Ash, but it slowly spreads to the others.

“Where’s The Golden Boy?” Ash calls on set, holding a cap for Rami, who was warming up. It’s rather endearing, the way he jogs to her wearing a smile.

“Here, Ma, what do you need from me?”

“Hat.” Is all she says, presenting it to him. They’ve always had a soft spot for each other, having worked together on Night At the Museum and it’s sequels for several years. He was one of the last to pick up the habit of calling her ‘ma’, after spending so long calling her Rocket, but he’s grown into it, they all have. Even some of the crew have taken to using the nickname, or some variation.

And maybe she leans into it, leans into her age and her wisdom, and they know they’re sort of telling her story too, but there’s a disconnect when they look at her, at her greying hair and the deep laugh lines around her mouth, and they forget who exactly she is. Though sometimes, rarely, they’re given sharp reminders.

There’s a video on Gwil’s phone that he later puts on Instagram once he has her permission, and the NDA has come to an end, of Ash on the set of Live Aid. She’s sitting on the edge of the stage, legs hanging over the edge, and Roger’s in front of her, at the perfect height to rest his chin on her knees.

“Do you think you can still do that impression of yours?” Roger’s voice is barely audible, but he’s grinning, and Ash cards a hand through his short, white hair.

“Which- oh, the Freddie- oh Christ,” she laughs, “this’d be the place for it, aye?” And she starts clearing her throat, about the time that Roger spots Gwil and his curious camera.

“Sorry, was just trying to catch a video of the empty stadium,” Gwil’s voice can be heard, and Roger laughs, which causes Ash to turn. Seeing Gwil, she smiles, and nods at the camera.

“You’re gonna wanna get a video of this,” Roger grins, nudging Ash’s knee, and she turns an amusing shade of pink, struggling to her feet. Gwil rushes forward to help her up, but Ash brushes him off.

“I used to do this with Freds to help him warm up, and whenever I was side of stage,” she says, a strangely fond smile on her face as she reminisces, “I’m no singer, never have been, this is probably as close as I’ll get,” she warned, looking straight at the camera.

Taking a deep breath, she clears her throat, and belts out ‘ay-oh’. As if being summoned by a siren, everyone who can hear her, responds in kind. Smiling, pleased, she continues with the bit, as does everyone else, slowly gathering around her. It sounds uncannily like Freddie, and she holds an arm out to Rami to join her in leading the gathered crowd, which he agrees to with a bright grin, which ends with him yelling ‘hey, hey, hey, Hammer to Fall!’ and Ash, as well as the rest of the crew, bursts out into laughter.

The video’s posted with the caption ‘Ash Mercury in her prime’. All three of Ash and Roger’s kids comment about how they hadn’t heard her do that in so long, and not for the first time, Gwilym finds himself marveling at what it would be like to have Ash and Roger as actual parents.

Once the camera’s off, Ash talks quietly about how she and Freddie used to practice it, because he couldn’t teach Ash to sing to save his life, but he’d be damned if he couldn’t teach her this.

“He was like, an actual brother to her,” Ben says quietly when he and the other three boys are gathered together, checking in before they finally started filming.

“Yeah, it’s crazy to think some times; she took his last name for a full fifteen years," Rami muses, and there’s something that warms in his heart whenever he catches Ash’s wistful gaze as she watches them perform, quietly grateful.

There’s a few videos here and there from set from Ash, little moments she finds endearing, usually set to music;

She catches her son, Barney, and his partner dancing to Seaside Rendezvous alone in the makeup truck, joyful and bright, they sway together to the beat as her son sings along, and his partner laughs fondly, pressing their smile against his chest as he tries to make kazoo noises.

When Cate, her middle daughter, comes to set, she takes a seat by the piano and plays the opening for Seven Seas of Rhye.

“That’s the one he wrote for you, isn’t it?” She turns, beaming, and Ash sits beside her. Again, Cate plays the opening, and Ash hums along, out of key, and Cate swallows her own gentle laughter, instead singing along.

Karen Gillan has a perm in order to play Ash, but unlike Joe, she appears to have no trouble in it, actually takes great pride in it. Ash has caught the rest of the cast, on several different occasions, using it to take photos of themselves with a stunning, ginger beard, which amuses her to no end, as it was something Roger was want to do on occasion when he got bored back in the day.

On the night of the Oscars, at the afterparty, Ash uploads two videos in the same post, one from set, and one from that night. They’re simply captioned ‘Me & The Champions. 2018/19′.

The video from on set is from the final day; Ash’s hands are shaking the camera slightly, but her voice is loud and clear, ringing throughout the set;

“Where are my kids?” And like clockwork, Ben, Gwilym, Rami, and Joe all come out from various places, followed by Lucy and Karen, all giving her fond looks.

“Oh man, I’m gonna miss my set-mom,” Joe looks like the thought genuinely pains his heart, and as the realization dawns on the others, there’s a fond and faintly forlorn expression mirrored on all their faces. Joe’s the first to go in for the hug, despite Ash’s faint ‘oh Jesus Christ, Trixie’, but they all soon join.

The second video is from right after the Oscars awards ceremony, when most of the cast and crew who’d been attending are doing photo opportunities, and while Brian and Roger are already with them, Ash had hung back.

“It’s so good to see all my kids in the one place!” She calls, and Joe’s expression lights up as he hears her voice.

“Ma, we won!” Rami holds up his Oscar with delight, already a little tipsy, as were the rest of them as they crowd Ash, all wrapping her up in a group hug. Someone’s humming We Are The Champions. Ash suspects Joe. But she takes delight in the moment anyways, pride flaring bright in her chest.

#roger taylor #BoRhap #BoRhap cast #borhap imagine #joe mazzello #ben hardy #gwilym lee #rami malek #Lucy Boynton #karen gillan #borhap cast imagine #Queen #queen imagine #Brian May #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor x oc #the angry lizard writes

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alphawave-writes · 4 years

Text

Evil actions and good intentions final chapter: ‘Gravitationally locked’

Synopsis: In the aftermaths of the final battle, Harold reflects on the future of himself, Overwatch, and the world.

Read it here or find it on AO3. You can find me on twitter @alphawave13 or on my Sigrold discord server.

It’s been a wild ride writing this. This story didn’t turn out the way I initially planned, but I think that’s a good thing. Change, I think, is the biggest thing about this story, especially in how Sigma and Harold grow as people. I’m probably gonna stick to one shots from now on while I recover from long fic fatigue.

It really means the world to me that you guys supported me as much as you did throughout this journey. I got fanart, and more fanfics, and a Sigrold week, and a lot more smut than I expected, and I’m so glad I contributed as much as I did. It’s not goodbye, just a farewell for now. So thanks for reading, and thanks for all the space dads. In Harold Winston’s famous words: Never accept the world as it appears to be. Dare to see it for what it could be.

For many different reasons Overwatch doesn’t put Harold on missions. His leg still needs time to heal, that is the most immediate excuse, but in truth the mission to Horizon had made some things complicated. Namely, the fact that Dr. Harold Winston is legally dead for the second time in a row. And honestly, Harold has had his fill of excitement for the time being. Action-packed fighting and running is all well and good, but he’s not built for it. Still, there's no way he can't be involved, so Winston convinces him to becomes a handler during the missions. If he’s honest with himself, he’s good at it. He keeps calm under pressure and he’s able to pick out the little details in the grainy surveillance data. Surveillance work like this isn’t too different from the work he did decades ago in Horizon. The difference is that it'll help the lives of many, rather than a few gorillas and some uptight Horizon scientists.

Siebren insists that being a handler is Harold's true calling, and he wants to agree, but he’s sure sooner or later he’ll feel that itch, that desire to help people more directly, to be there with the other Overwatch members in the thick of it. Until then, he’ll stay here and do what he's good at.

With a few exceptions, Siebren doesn’t go on missions either. He’s continuing his research into gravity and the nature of his powers, which has now expanded to include wormholes. Symmetra is helping him out on that matter in the hopes that perhaps his work could be incorporated into her hard light teleporter. It is a little bit of a shame he doesn’t go on more missions, because Harold always likes the way Siebren looks in his armour, especially the way that harness of his digs perfectly into his thighs. Then again, given the choice, he’d vastly prefer Siebren not wear his sexy armour and stick around the base. Who else is going to push his wheelchair and dote on him?

From the outside, there is the impression that Watchpoint: Gibraltar is having one of its slow days. An insider like Harold, however, knows that it’s never not busy. On his end alone, he’s been reading and re-reading his original research into his nanobots, searching for ways to improve the design. If he’s not doing that, he’s souping up his wheelchair with Torbjörn and Reinhardt to make it fly, and if he’s not doing that, he’s doing physical therapy with Mercy and Genji. And on the few instances he has free time, it’s usually spent with someone else. Often times it’s with Winston or Siebren. Occasionally it’s with Tracer or Mei or Sojourn.

Today, however, he’s expecting someone else. Someone he’s spent a lot of time tracking down and a lot more time convincing to come over.

At the edge of the base, a mech in the shape of a sphere rolls over, moving to a sudden stop in front of Harold. Siebren is holding onto the bars of Harold’s wheelchair, shaking his head incredulously while Winston laughs happily. The top of the mech pops open, revealing a large hamster wearing a small vest. The hamster waves.

“Hammond, it’s good to see you,” Winston says.

Hammond makes a series of squeaks. After seeing the blank stares from Harold and Siebren, he rolls his eyes audibly, and then punches something on the console of his mech. “THE HAMSTER IS HAPPY TO SEE YOU ALL TOO.”

Harold grins proudly. “I’ve heard you’ve been up to some trouble while I was gone.”

Hammond makes some discontent squeaks, eyebrows rising in surprise and shame. He crosses his arms and turns his head to the side with a huff.

“A pity," Harold smirks. "I’ve been looking forward to see what kind of trouble you can make with us. What do you say, little guy?”

Hamond makes a questioning squeak to Winston, who nods his head. His little cheeks bunches up into a wide smirk as he makes a series of confident squeaks. “THIS SMALL MAMMAL WILL SHOW YOU WHAT KIND OF TROUBLE HE CAN GET UP TO.”

Siebren is still shaking his head. "This little rascal is going to be the end of me."

Hammond proves himself to be a rebellious little creature, and has a lot of fun messing with others while he’s not in his mech. Aside from Siebren, Harold, and Winston, no one else seems to have caught on that the pilot of Wrecking Ball is a genetically enhanced hamster. When he’s not working on his mech, he revels in pranking the others. His favourite victim is Torbjörn, moving things around in his workplace and modifying his gadgets so they work differently. No one questions the strange ball mech becoming a new member of the reformed Overwatch, and no one ever asks about Wrecking Ball’s true identity. Soon, Hammond becomes a member of this strange interspecies family, albeit a rebellious one who very much doesn’t like to be showered with affection. In other words, typical behaviour not unlike that of a human teenager.

If Siebren has any opinions about suddenly being a father figure to a hamster and a gorilla, he doesn’t say anything. Privately, Harold thinks Siebren is beginning to like the strange new relationships he’s forming, not that he’d ever say it out loud.

Overwatch expands over time. New operatives from unlikely places arrives to join the fight. Hanzo, Genji’s brother, arrives to quiet fanfare, and keeps mostly to himself, taking his time to warm up to his new comrades and to his new life under Overwatch. Much louder and much more destructively is the arrival of Junkrat and Roadhog, whose explosive entrance made more than a few people question why Winston allowed the criminals to work under their banner, even if they were trying to go "legit". Symmetra and Mei were both especially vocal against Junkrat’s stay in particular, but while Mei continues to remain icy to the Junkers after their first meeting, Symmetra has slowly warmed up to the pair, to the surprise of everyone.

Orisa and her creator, Efi, both don’t show up in person as they are still protecting Numbani, but they are also made Overwatch agents through a long-distance call. Pharah pledges her allegiance and offers her support, but says she has an obligation to lead her own team in Helix first and foremost. Baptiste arrives suddenly one day with Sombra, making snide complaints about the lacking facilities like it’s an average day for them. Their reasons for joining are purposely vague whenever they’re questioned, and Harold suspects they’re ultimately self-serving, but they help with their respective talents and don’t push too many buttons.

One day, when he’s sure she’ll least expect it, Harold hands Sombra a framed photo. Her nose scrunches up.

“What’s this?” She asks.

“You asked me to get you some pictures. Turns out I had some photos in the data I retrieved up there. It’s old, but hey, you wanted a photo from space, right?”

For once, Sombra is silent, cradling the photograph gently like it’s made of the most fragile crystal. She observes the graininess of the photo, the pitch black of Space and the shimmering blue Earth, big and wide and beautiful.

Her lips thin. “I was joking, you know.”

“I know. But I found it, and you asked for it, so I thought, why not?”

Sombra smiles softly, a rare warm look that makes her look more youthful and vibrant. Like the flash of a camera, it's there for only a second before her warm smile turns into a colder smirk. “Things like this,” she waves the photo, “are why men like you get killed.”

Harold shrugs. “I came back from the dead twice now. And that's not counting all the other times I've nearly died in the past few months already. I almost used up all of my nine lives.”

Sombra snorts. “You’re not a cat. And this is a boring photo, you know. I’m not in it.”

“It’s a picture of the Earth. Everybody’s in it. Everyone's together.” He smiles. "That's the best thing about looking at Earth from the moon, I think."

Tracer will later ask Harold why Sombra is acting so nice for the rest of the day. For Sombra’s pride, he fakes ignorance. No one else needs to know.

As the nights grow longer, Harold finds himself retreating to his bedroom more often. Siebren is often there before him, helping Harold into bed before curling up next to him. He remembers those little moments in their past when they used to have playful arguments about who gets to be the little spoon. The good thing about being handicapped is that he gets first preference. Soon, warm, hairy arms surrounds his midsection, a hooked nose presses into his neck. A soft sigh breathes onto the sensitive flesh, making him shiver.

“Heard you had a fun day with Reinhardt,” Harold smirks.

“Don’t remind me,” Siebren groans. “My arm is sore from that arm-wrestling contest. Look at it.” He dangles it in front of Harold’s face. Harold lightly pushes it away.

“It’s your fault for accepting that challenge when Brigitte told you not to. She literally said that Reinhardt's super competitive and he doesn't hold back.”

“You say that after it is easier to look the cow in the ass,” Siebren mutters. “He was bragging to everybody about how he beat me so easily. It’s not my fault I do not regularly participate in such childish competitions of physical strength. If I used my powers, I could’ve won easily.”

“Sore loser.”

“Know-it-all.”

“Showoff.”

Siebren laughs. “Cute.”

“Handsome.” Harold chuckles when he lifts his arm, reaching behind to rub Siebren’s head. Siebren makes a sound in between a purr and a sigh, which makes Harold think of that time he worked with an animal shelter back when he was young and fresh out of university. Bony fingers crawl underneath his shirt, smoothing over his stomach. Harold can’t help but smile a little. “Siebren,” he warns.

“I’m not doing anything. Not tonight. I just want to feel you.”

Harold giggles incredulously. “You do realise what that sounds like in English, right?”

“You know what I mean,” Siebren scoffs. “I just…I need a reminder every now and then. To know you’re here. Even after everything we’ve gone through, you being by my side feels like a dream.”

“And what if it was? How’d you dream I’d end up here?”

“In my dreams, you wouldn’t end up here. We’d be together, have been together for a long time now.” Siebren smiles indulgently as he gazes up at the ceiling. “You wouldn’t have your accident, and neither would I. We’d be healthy and happy and content. We’d still be conducting research, but our progress will slow over time. We’d have a home somewhere far away from the hustle and bustle, with its own workspace for us to do any projects we so choose. Knowing you, you’d have convinced me to let us have a pet or two, or seven, or fifteen. I would not be surprised at all if our home turned into a literal zoo by this time.”

Harold giggles. It does sound like something he’d do.

Siebren continues, “I’d like to think we’d be married by that point. We’d have beautiful wedding rings and a photo album for the entire ceremony. I do not know if we’d have children—you care far too much about Winston and Hammond to not consider them as such—but I don’t think I would have disagreed if you desired to adopt or not. You would have worn me down by that point.”

“Funny how life goes,” Harold whispers. “Is that what you want?”

“Children? At my age? Absolutely not. Even if I wanted to, I don’t think that’s possible anymore if we take our current circumstances into consideration.”

“Not that. I’m talking about marriage.” He takes Siebren��s hand away from his stomach to the bed, entwining their fingers together. It’s impossibly warm and a bit sweaty. His eyes glance down to Siebren’s ring finger. “Given the chance, would you ever marry?”

Siebren gulps, trying to grasp the individual words—or perhaps even sentences—that came out of Harold’s mouth. His throat sounds dry. “I…m-marriage? It...it’s impossible, Harold. You’re legally dead for the second time in a row and I do not dare find out whether I'm officially alive or not. And even if we had rings and a ceremony and guests…” He trails off, no doubt fantasizing about what such a ceremony would be like. Harold tries to do the same, but can only imagine Winston in an ill-fitting tux and Hammond in a strangely fitted three piece suit. Suddenly, Siebren clears his throat loudly. “You and I, it’s…it’s not possible anymore.”

“I never said if it was possible now, or if it was with me. I’m saying, if you had the chance to marry anyone, and I mean anyone, right now, would you?”

Siebren slowly turns Harold to the other side so they’re facing each other. His smile is gentle and soft, in stark contrast to his sharp features. His piercing blue eyes look at Harold like he’s the most fascinating thing to ever exist in the world. Like he’s stardust, and complex mathematical equations, and the complete musical works of Erik Satie, and the secrets to gravity, all wrapped up with a bow on top.

Siebren smirks. “You already know the answer.”

Harold smiles bashfully. “You want to know my answer if you asked me that question?”

“No need,” Siebren chuckles. He presses a soft kiss to Harold’s jaw. “I know the answer to that too, my treasure.”

A nervous chuckle bubbles out of Harold's throat, a crimson blush overtaking his cheeks. His head is swimming and his body feels like Siebren's used his powers on him, making him drift higher and higher in the air. From anyone else it’s just a statement, but from Siebren that’s as good as a confession, a hidden promise of things to come or things he wishes would come. It’s hard trying to imagine how they’d be like if they were married because as beautiful as it might be, it doesn’t seem real. His reality is here with Overwatch, helping them travel across the globe to fight terrorists and save people. A peaceful life with Siebren by his side is out of his reach, not that he cares anymore. Reality is often better than fantasy, after all.

Siebren’s smiling at him. “You’re thinking again.”

Harold puts his hand on Siebren’s cheek. His eyes are focused on the space between their bodies. “Would you change anything about your life? Anything at all?”

Siebren’s lips fall as his gaze goes glassy. He thinks, seriously thinks, for several seconds. “There are things I wish did happen. I wished I didn’t lose my mind in my accident. I wish I didn’t have to hold the fragile pieces together. I wish I didn’t spend years mourning you when I thought you were dead. But I wouldn’t change anything. The law of entropy and the cosmic censorship hypothesis suggests that my current circumstances are the most optimal path my life could take.”

Harold smirks. “Just admit it. You like this, being the hero, saving people and fighting off the bad guys.”

Siebren rolls his eyes. “Perhaps I do.”

“Lost opportunities, lost possibilities, feelings we can never get back. That's part of what it means to be alive.” Harold quotes without thinking. “I wouldn’t change anything at all. If I did, I wouldn’t be alive. Literally and metaphorically.”

Siebren nods. “Dr Harold Winston is dead, just as Dr Siebren de Kuiper is dead. We’re different people, taking on their forms, living on with their faces but not their lives.” He runs his hand over Harold’s cheek, trailing over the catheter. “I’m Sigma, and you’re Charon. Let Dr Winston and Dr de Kuiper be the star-crossed lovers they were meant to be, up in the dark realms of space. Let us dare to see the world for what it could be.”

Harold smirks. “Should I call you Sigma now? Are you going to call me Harold?”

“I don’t care anymore. You should ask yourself those questions.”

“What, should I call myself Charon now?” Harold says incredulously.

“If you want to,” he replies. “You know who you are. And I can assure you, names do have power. Whatever you choose to call yourself, that will affect who you are and what you become.”

It’s easier said than done. It’s harder for him to let go of Harold. It is him, or at least a part of him, and it’s hard to think of himself as a different person or a different entity. He’s changed, he knew from the beginning that he has changed, but it wasn’t enough. That’s what he thought, but then it only takes a few little changes to become a different person. The man in front of him right now is a prime example of it. Is it possible that it applies to him as well? Can he be a different person, even when so much of him still feels like Harold?

Siebren is staring at him. “Well?”

Harold’s eyes lower. “Do you think I’ve changed enough?”

“What do you think?” Siebren asks.

For an instant Harold sees his reflection in Siebren’s glimmering eyes only to find himself staring at someone else. It’s not Harold Winston that Siebren stares so lovingly at. It’s a different person. A better person.

The corner of his lips quirks upwards. “You know what?" He says, "I think I finally have.”

The Orca drops down like butter in front of a desecrated Ayutthaya. The buildings that line the streets are old and crumbling and the streets are wide and filled with people. Stalls in the local market have been abandoned alongside the many vans and pick-up trucks. Many people are hiding in the ruins of the buildings. Others are trying to lead others to safety. In the distance, near the tourist traps and the temples stands a massive omnic, red lights scanning the horizon, hundreds of smaller omnics surrounding it.

The doors to the Orca open and four step out, the Overwatch emblem standing proud on their person. Tracer’s voice leaks through the comms.

“Alright chaps, we’ve got us a big ol’ Omnic. Government wants to preserve the temples so we gotta lead it away to the forest nearby. I’ll try and do it from the ship but you guys gotta be prepared to take this thing down yourselves.”

Sombra’s voice chirps in. “You know I could hack this thing, right?”

“So why aren’t you here?” Tracer grumbles.

“Ay, it's too hot there. You go have fun in Thailand."

Tracer’s eyeroll was practically audible. “You ready, Winston?”

“I’m ready.” He turns his head. “What about you, Hammond?”

“THE HAMSTER WANTS TO GET THE BALL ROLLING ALREADY.”

“Sigma?” Winston asks.

“Sigma present,” he declares.

“Charon?”

He fiddles with the ring on his hand, his eyes glancing at Sigma’s neck, where an identical ring rests on a simple chain necklace. It took a lot of people by surprise that morning, waking up to find the rings on their person, sipping coffee side by side. There was no grand ceremony, no big reveal. One day they were just two people. The next, they have decided to considered themselves married husbands. It's not official, and the rings are cheap and symbolic, but as long as they believe it, that's all he cares about.

It’s still a bit weird to consider Sigma his husband. Until that word doesn't taste so strange from his tongue, he'll say it again and again, and even when it does taste sweet, he'll say it some more. It's weird in so many ways, but it feels so right.

As perfectly right as being in this moment is, with his new found family, despite the danger.

“Charon here, ready and waiting for someone to get themselves injured.” He glances mischievously at Wrecking Ball.

“DIAGNOSIS: I PRESCRIBE YOU WITH WHINY [REDACTED] DISEASE.”

Charon smirks. “And here I thought I brought you up to be a polite little boy.”

“ANALYSIS: YOU MADE THIS SOFTWARE. CONCLUSION: DEAL WITH IT.”

“Settle down, you two,” Winston says. “We have a job to do. The world needs us heroes.”

Sigma scoffs lightly. “Do we count as heroes?”

"What, don't think we're heroes?" Charon asks.

"I'm not saying that at all. I'm just confirming how much collateral damage we obliged to make today," Sigma says.

Charon lets the back of his hand brush over Sigma's hand. This close, Harold can feel the strings of gravity tug at his fingertips, eager to pull him into its orbit. Inside his bloodstream, the nanobots activate, coursing through his body. He closes his eyes, savouring the sticky humid air and the thundering steps of the giant omnic and this feeling of completeness, being so close to his loved ones. He opens his eyes, dark brown irises flickering into gold. The last traces of Harold Winston leaves his body, and in his place Charon emerges.

By his side, everybody readies their weapons. With practiced hands he checks the jet injector and the backpack on his back filled with golden serum. He lets out a quiet gasp when he feels something grab onto his hand. Gloved fingers wrap around his, squeezing tightly before letting go. The man it belongs to nods his head towards the omnics and smiles. Are you ready? Sigma asks.

There's no doubt in his mind. Charon nods, smiling proudly. I'm ready. Silently, the four of them leave the ship and approach the Omnics, ready to fight and save the city.

He's dared to change himself for the better. Now, it's time for him to do the same for the world.

Sometimes fate is like a small sandstorm that keeps changing directions. You change direction but the sandstorm chases you. You turn again, but the storm adjusts. Over and over you play this out, like some ominous dance with death just before dawn. Why? Because this storm isn't something that blew in from far away, something that has nothing to do with you. This storm is you. Something inside of you. So all you can do is give in to it, step right inside the storm, closing your eyes and plugging up your ears so the sand doesn't get in, and walk through it, step by step. There's no sun there, no moon, no direction, no sense of time. Just fine white sand swirling up into the sky like pulverized bones. That's the kind of sandstorm you need to imagine.

And you really will have to make it through that violent, metaphysical, symbolic storm. No matter how metaphysical or symbolic it might be, make no mistake about it: it will cut through flesh like a thousand razor blades. People will bleed there, and you will bleed too. Hot, red blood. You'll catch that blood in your hands, your own blood and the blood of others.

And once the storm is over you won't remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. You won't even be sure, in fact, whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm you won't be the same person who walked in. That's what this storm's all about.

Haruki Murakami – ‘Kafka on the Shore’

#Overwatch #Sigma #Siebren de Kuiper #Harold Winston #Sigrold #Oh my god I am so glad this is over #I mean I'm sad but also kinda relieved #This is my baby and now it's gone off for greener pastures #It's like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders but I miss the weight?#I hope you guys like this story I've crafted. It really has been a journey

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loyalflutist · 4 years

Text

Fusion (F!Byleth x Dorothea)

Challenge: Bylethea Week 2019 (Twitter) Day 3: Fusion

A/N: I could’ve gone for the other easier prompt, but yolo, I wanted to take a spin on this unique one! Also, I seem to be writing more and more references for Edelgard x Ingrid for some reason...

---

“Um, Dorothea, do you know where the professor went?”

“…”

“Dorothea?”

“She probably went to see Lady Rhea, Hubie.”

“Oh, okay then. Guess I’ll ask her later.”

“Can I relay the message for you?”

“Hm… just let her know that I’m looking for her.”

“…”

Dorothea, who had waved farewell to Hubert, felt an invisible tug pull upon her arm. A couple of steps were taken to the nearest bookshelves. Then, the opera singer reached out towards the thick covers, her fingertips brushing upon the spines. She frowned and harshly whispered,

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Then, from the same mouth, she said, “I’m looking for the solution.”

Although she was alone in the library, if anyone were to catch sight of her, they would have mistaken her as being mental. Just who in their right mind would speak to themselves? It didn’t help that Dorothea’s features would switch between expressionless and annoyance every ten seconds. She had spooked Bernadetta already by accident this morning. She didn’t want a repeat of it again with someone else. She wasn’t in the mood to explain their predicament either… if anyone would believe in them, that is. The student loudly sighed and lowered her head, her hand acting on its own accord.

“I still can’t believe this isn’t a dream, professor.”

“…”

This morning was rather eventful. The two females yesterday shared a late-night tea session. Since they were already in a relationship, both Byleth and Dorothea shared sweet romantic words to each other (though awkward) and cuddled in bed. When it had gotten too dark, the two parted ways, with Byleth taking her leave from Dorothea’s bedroom. By the time they woke up, Dorothea found herself staring in unfamiliar territory.

She was in Byleth’s room. A glimpse around told her that Byleth was nowhere to be found. The young lady had panicked as she had no recollection of what led her to the professor’s private quarter. It didn’t help that the instant she slammed open the door, Edelgard was in the midst of knocking on the wooden barrier. Seeing her classmate dressed in nothing more than undergarments invited a full red makeover of the noble’s face. Steam wafted from the top of her head as Edelgard excused herself from the premise.

It didn’t take long for Dorothea to figure out what sort of unintentional message was conveyed… and she didn’t appreciate it.

“Edie gave me these strange looks, you know!”

“It’s not my fault that I’m stuck inside of your body now.”

The opera singer shrugged in conjunction with Byleth’s thoughts. True enough, Dorothea was not only forced to deal with the flustered Edelgard whenever they made eye contact, she nearly got a heart attack when her mouth started moving on its own. It took a solid five minutes for Dorothea to believe in Byleth’s words, originally thinking she was possessed by a ghost.

“Ugh, and you saw everything when I had to get dressed!”

“Um… this isn’t the first time I’ve seen you naked though.”

“T-That’s—” A deep blush tainted her cheeks. “What are you trying to say?!”

“I still don’t understand what’s the embarrassment. We’ve seen each other naked when we were—”

“STOP RIGHT THERE!” She slapped over her own mouth, muffling Byleth. When her girlfriend stopped trying to talk, she removed her hand and quickly added, “That’s different! You really need to work on your social skills, you know.”

“People tell me that all the time.”

“And I think you should listen to them.”

“Father doesn’t have a problem though.”

“Captain Jeralt is… different.”

Dorothea shook her head and rubbed her temple. This is such a hassle. As much as she loves her teacher, this was inconvenient for the two members, especially when it came to more… sensitive and private matters. Then, she felt her hand slid down to her chin, cupping it. A faint hum slipped past her lips. Dorothea watched her control slip out of her reign as Byleth began to take their leave from the library. Their search— or rather, Byleth’s search, was fruitless. Not a single booklet contained the information they needed about their definition of bodily fusion.

“Oh, Dorothea, I want to talk to you.”

Byleth stared at the person speaking to Dorothea right outside of the hallways. She retracted her hand and observed the speaker through her girlfriend’s vision. It was a male guard. Though unlike the Gatekeeper that the professor has come to know and like, this one was a little rough on the edge.

“You still haven’t responded about the date.”

Her eyes widen. Okay, maybe he was more than rough around the edge. Byleth could feel Dorothea bubble from within her chest in order to regain control of her own body. Yet she didn’t allow it. There was a powerful force that pressed the host away from the panel. Dorothea resisted the temptation to exclaim. It’s unfortunate that their fusion didn’t allow the transmission of thoughts between each other. Though on second thought… It might be for the best. There are some things Dorothea prefers Byleth not to know and vice versa.

Dorothea was forced to remain silent as Byleth… crossed her arms. She almost wanted to slap herself on the forehead as the student rarely, if ever, would do so. It wasn’t part of her routine! Regardless, this professor’s habit went unnoticed as the guard approached them. Byleth narrowed her eyes. He was taller than them.

“I hope you understand that I’m already in a relationship.”

“With who?”

“Do I need to tell you?”

He clicked his tongue. Despite the blunt answers, his persistence stayed. The young man took another step forward, closing their distance to an uncomfortable degree. Dorothea nearly gagged when she felt his breath tickle her nose.

“Actually, you don’t need to. However, it wouldn’t hurt to go out with me just this once, right? I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”

“SHE would mind.”

“Oh…” Byleth’s glare didn’t scare him away. The response she provided had fueled his next reply, making him sound even worse than he already did from the beginning. “She wouldn’t know how a man treats his lady. Let me teach you, yeah?”

Dorothea nearly took control of her body by sheer instinct when his hand snaked around her waist. From the distant, it would appear as though he was ready to meet their bodies together, his lips yearning to touch for hers.

“Can you stop!?” the student vocalized her objection. “Leave me alone!”

That didn’t budge him. Byleth widens her eyes and felt… a rush of emotions she has rarely felt: fear.

It’s clear that there was no consent between the two. Not that it lasted long anyway. Dorothea quickly took partial control and slapped him. But her ownership did not last long, the older female taking it away like previously.

Byleth hadn’t knocked his hand away. She kneed him. Hard. The guard instantly pressed against his abdomen and felt the wind knocked out of him. She didn’t let up, her elbow came crashing down onto his back. This forced him down onto the ground with a loud slam. As he groaned, the professor stared at him. If looks could kill, she would have murdered him ten times over.

“Since you pose a danger to her, I’m going to make sure you’re removed from the monastery.”

“H-Her?”

She didn’t answer. Byleth turned her back towards him and, to their luck, spotted Caspar and Ferdinand. One flick of her wrist was all it took to bring them over.

“Take care of him,” she mumbled and walked away. “I don’t want to see him ever again. Make sure he stays away from everyone.”

Ferdinand and Caspar had plenty of questions for Dorothea. Just what happened? However, the youngsters had their hands full with pulling the man up. Though the scenario was unclear, what was clear for sure were the outcomes. They know their comrade enough to heed her words. After all, Dorothea would never lie when determining how bad an individual is. She was never off the mark either.

“Byleth…”

“…”

Byleth had stepped back from the wheel and allowed Dorothea to regain full motor skills with her own body. The songstress curled and uncurled her fingers. She called out to her girlfriend again once they were in the safety of Dorothea’s bedroom.

“Byleth…?”

“…”

The brown-haired sat on the edge of her mattress when Byleth finally spoke up, alas in a small whisper.

“That man is disgusting.”

“I know, right?”

“I can’t believe you deal with this every day.”

“It’s normal.”

“Normal? I don’t want it to be normal.” She felt her grip ball into a tight fist. Oddly, her eyes became watery, Dorothea feeling her heartache from Byleth. “I’ve never felt so angry.”

“I could tell.”

“I… I don’t want this to happen to you anymore.”

“I would love that.”

Just because it's happened so many times doesn't mean she's gotten used to it. There is no "getting used to it" anyway. This sort of situation always invites disasters and trauma. History of men and women that proposed and attempted nonconsensual activities back during her opera era were always in for a beating. Yet that fear never went away. If she was unable to protect herself or if Byleth wasn't present... What would happen? Dorothea shook those hypothetical scenes off, her attention fully set on Byleth. This situation wasn't only affecting Dorothea.

Byleth bit the bottom of her lip.

“Just… why? Why would they do that to you?”

“My dear Byleth, oh, how much I want to hug you right now.”

Dorothea wiped her tears away with the back of her hand, even more tears falling from her eyes. Byleth was always publicly known as the Ashen Demon. Not a lick of emotions would be expressed. To be frank, it had worried everyone in the monastery. Some students and staff hardly paid attention to this part of the professor. Others, especially Edelgard, Mercedes, Raphael, and Dorothea, were concerned about it. They didn’t know if Byleth was repressing them or if she was actually THAT emotionless.

Turns out moments like this proved otherwise. Behind closed doors, Byleth would cry to herself, having no one other than her father to consult. Sometimes her father wasn’t even helpful, Jeralt either out of the monastery or his perspective was unhelpful for the situation. Dorothea felt her chest ache again, its impact doubled as she resisted the temptation to hug herself.

It was a mixed reaction as control wildly shifted back and forth. Comforting Byleth made her look silly on the outside. She was wiping her own tears and giving the occasional pat on the arm. Soft hushes ushered the poor adult to her normal state, her silent cries coming to a cessation.

“I’m sorry to show you that side of me," Byleth finally voiced, though it somewhat cracked. "I shouldn’t act this way.”

“Don’t be so uptight, professor,” Dorothea smiled. “I’m always here for you… just like you do for me.”

“Mhm…”

The rest of the day was spent in leisure within Dorothea’s bedroom. Since Byleth was physically absent, the Black Eagle’s lectures were canceled for today. It was safe to say that Rhea, Seteth, and Flayn were desperately calling for a search party to find the teacher. All three house leaders were forced to partake in the mission themselves. As for the other students, they were responsible for keeping their eyes peeled on campus.

Nightfall descend upon the land… and morning occurred before the two. The search results were futile. Edelgard, Dimitri, and Claude returned exhausted after staying up all night with the soldiers and scouts. Jeralt himself was a bit frazzled for having lost his daughter. All participants, excluding Edelgard, hurried back to their dormitory for their long-desired sleep. (Thank goodness it’s the weekends too.)

Dorothea rose up from the bed, rubbing both her eyes. She yawned and dropped her hand on top of Byleth’s bareback. The songstress turned to the naked professor and— Wait a minute… Whatever drowsiness the student was inflicted with vanished without a trace. Dorothea blinked a few times at the sight of her sleeping instructor.

“…”

She leaned forward to get a closer look.

“Zzz…”

“Oh my gosh, we’re separated!”

Jolly, this is wonderful! This couldn’t be a dream, right?! The opera singer pinched her own cheeks, leapt off from bed, and ran to the bright windows. It was real alright, and the outcome was exactly what she wanted. Questions about the abrupt fusion from yesterday lingered in her mind. Yet those could be searched for later. Right now, she has to wake up Byleth and tell her about the good news!

Dorothea heard a few knocks on the door. Her ecstatic state rendered her capability to critically think to a lesser degree than normal. The young lady opened up the door for their guest.

There stood Edelgard… and Edelgard’s features were… completely red. Unlike yesterday, she rooted herself by the entranceway and coughed into her fist.

“D-Dorothea… I… um… wow, I’m surprised you’re not cold in those undergarments.”

“Under— Oh… Yeah, I don’t sleep with my clothes on.”

“…Anyway, I just wanted to stop by and let you know that we have yet to find the professor— !!!”

The redness that discolored her friend’s face darkened in its shades. Edelgard lost her ability to speak. Dorothea wasn’t sure what the cause was until she glanced over her shoulder.

“Is there something you need?” Byleth asked, her figure going full commando from behind the songstress, blanket just covering her nether region. “I’m sorry I was out of commission yesterday.”

“DOROTHEA…………………..”

‘ Oh goodness… I have a feeling I know where this is going… ‘

“Don’t tell me that the reason our professor went missing was that you were having… sex with her?”

‘ GOD DANG IT. ‘

Dorothea viciously shook her had. “N-NO! W-W-What kind of conclusion— Why— How did you—”

“I mean…” Edelgard motioned to the naked ex-mercenary. “She doesn’t have clothes on… and you don’t have most of yours on either… like yesterday… in her room…”

“#$@&%!!!"

"I know you both partake in these nightly activities... as Hubert and Ferdinand do... but I've never seen the professor out the entire day. You... didn't do her THAT hard, did you?"

"%#$@!!!!!!”

Meanwhile, Byleth tilted her head from behind, unaware of where the conversation was leaning towards. Common sense didn't apply to the warrior. If she casually joked about "night crawling" to Dorothea... there are already problems. Dorothea got down on all four and frantically tried to explain their situation to their house leader.

Least the fusion issue was over with. Sothis shortly stopped by to tell Byleth she accidentally screwed up their inner dynamics and, well, just happened to transcend Byleth into spirit form and inhabit Dorothea’s body. The short female earned a bop on the head from the professor. A very strong one.

As for Edelgard… Dorothea and Byleth found themselves in an awkward relationship with her. Edelgard can’t seem to see them in the eyes anymore…

"Is something the matter?" Ingrid questioned her girlfriend during lunchtime. The two sat right outside of the Mess Hall, their private meals shared with one another. As she took a bite from a slab of meat, the knight lightly elbowed the noble. "Did you both get into a fight?"

"...hardcore..."

"Excuse me?"

"...sex."

"El, just what is going through your mind?"

#loyalflutist #fire emblem #fire emblem three houses #dorothea #dorothea arnault #byleth #f!byleth x dorothea #byleth eisner #f!byleth #byleth x dorothea #fan fic #fan fiction #fanfic #fanfiction #one shot #oneshot #os #byletheaweek2019 #day 3: fusion

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shawn-does-stuff · 5 years

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Shawn Mendes: ‘I’m 20. I want to have fun’

by Michael Cragg

Shawn Mendes is the red-hot poster boy of pop. His videos have been viewed 6bn times and he has more than 42m followers on Instagram. But don’t worry if you haven’t heard of him… just ask a teenager

Shawn Mendes is standing in his underpants in a suite on the fifth floor of a London hotel as a 200-strong crowd of screaming teenage girls gathers outside. “Everyone who doesn’t need to be in the room, leave the room,” he says politely but firmly, in a soft Canadian drawl. Pop’s current poster boy should be used to causing a stir. His #MyCalvins campaign (following in the footsteps of Justin Bieber in 2016) broke the internet earlier this year, inching the 20-year-old teen phenomenon – three US chart-topping albums, 30m monthly listeners on Spotify, more than 6bn video views – closer to tabloid supremacy and global domination.

At the Brit Awards that night, Mendes will cringe as presenter Jack Whitehall ribs him about “suspicious packages”, so it’s curious to hear him describe the Calvin Klein opportunity – and the subsequent results pored over by his 42m Instagram followers – as “a goal of mine at the top of 2018. As much as it’s a stepping stone for me to play a stadium, it’s a huge moment for me to step in front of a camera and take my shirt off. I don’t see one being less meaningful than the other.”

The air is thick with earnestness as we sit down for lunch in the hotel restaurant. I blurt out a question about whether he had to wear extra padding. “No,” he says, eyebrow raised. “They’re really good underwear.” Did they send you some free ones? “Yeah, I have boxes of them at home.” He lifts up the bottom edge of his T-shirt and pulls at the waistband of his underwear before quickly pulling his shirt back down. You’re not wearing them today are you? “Not right now,” he says sheepishly. “I should be.”

Mendes’s boy-next-door appeal and laser-guided ambition feels rather wholesome, with his sensitive, heart-on-sleeve pop-rock bops such as 2015’s UK chart-topper Stitches, positioning him as perfect boyfriend material in pop’s all important fantasy world. If Bieber is the unknowable loose cannon, then Mendes is pop’s picture-perfect head boy. But it’s clear that exposing himself so literally has its downside. “The last 48 hours have been so consuming, just reading what people are saying about me [on social media],” he sighs. Do you have to read it? “No, but there’s something about being human that makes you. I’m scared of social media and how much it affects me,” he continues. “It’s literally become infused with who I am.”

Last October he apologised to his 21m Twitter followers, claiming he was worried that what he was posting wasn’t meaningful enough. “For the first time I realised how many people are listening,” he says. He now monitors how often he goes online and tries to take regular breaks, using meditation to relax. “I don’t think of myself as conceited, but I definitely spend a lot of time reading about myself,” he says.

Mendes famously has three daily rules – going to the gym, two vocal lessons and never saying no to a selfie with a fan. He’s managed the first two so far and “took about 200 selfies yesterday”. Despite this, his rise has chimed with a shift in the upper echelons of pop – its recent exponents being anti-pop stars Adele, Ed Sheeran and (with her goofy dancing style and eternal quest for relatability) Taylor Swift, who’s now a friend. Even One Direction – whose blend of teen-orientated, guitar-led pop paved the way for Mendes – always felt like they were trying to play down the pop star element.

“The more open the world is getting, the more people are craving real,” he says. “I don’t think people want to see a made-up person. [In the past] there’s been a lot of dressing up, and I still think that stuff is amazing – like I’ll wear a sleeveless top – but at the end of it, when it comes down to you, I think it’s about being authentic.” For all this talk of authenticity and being like everyone else, I tell him, you’re also a pop star begging people to look at you. Do you have to believe your own hype? “Of course,” he says, his eyes darting over my shoulder to the mirrored wall behind. “You have to. If you wake up every day and say, ‘I’m OK,’ you’re going to just be that. If you wake up everyday and look at yourself in the mirror and say, ‘I’m great, let’s go sell out that stadium,’ then you will.”

You could say he’s been in motivational training for a while now, having started out as a 14-year-old YouTube star, uploading acoustic covers of songs (Bieber, among others), before switching to the now defunct social media platform Vine. He taught himself to play the guitar via YouTube tutorials at home in the small town of Pickering, Ontario, while one of his first public performances was in a plaza in Portugal where his family – mum Karen, a British estate agent, dad Manny, a Portuguese businessman, and younger sister Aaliyah – were holidaying. While his parents were shopping, Mendes hopped up next to a statue and belted out a Bruno Mars song. “I was sweating and I thought, ‘Dude, if you want to be a singer, you’ve got to at least be able to stand on this statue and sing,’” he says of that moment.

Where was that pressure coming from? “It was from myself, which is pretty much a big statement on my personality at 14 years old.”

While he says he loved school, his early fame – after signing to Island Records his debut single, Life of the Party, was released when he was just 15 – meant he was bullied. “People were cruel at first,” he says, clearing his throat and fiddling with the rim of a cup of green tea. “They just thought it was so stupid.” He’d skip school every Friday to attend influencer events in which social media stars met fans who already assumed they were friends. “I was taking 1,500 selfies a night,” he laughs. “You quickly learn that what you love to do is a job, but I don’t resent what I do. I don’t hate taking selfies.”

Success was rapid, with his third single Stitches breaking the US top five and peaking at number one in the UK. That same year he supported Swift on her 1989 stadium tour. How did he cope? “This life is more real to me than anything,” he says. “If I were to walk down the street and no one recognised me, I’d feel something was wrong. When I was really young [fame] morphed who I was. If it was to become normal, it would feel un-normal to me.”

From the outside, I say, the other recent pop artists who can relate to that are Britney Spears or Bieber, people who have had issues with growing up in the spotlight. “A couple of times I’ve worried about that, too, but outside of all this I live a really normal life,” he says slowly. “You have to make an effort to carry your own bags, drive your own car and not be afraid of the public. I don’t blame people at all who stay inside. I understand how it could be terrifying to go to a restaurant and eat because you’re scared someone’s going to take a photo of you.”

Is that more intrusive than a selfie? “I’ve been so lucky that fans have been taking photos of me eating since I was 15, so I’m a little bit numb to it,” he says, his tone rarely deviating from preternaturally calm. There’s probably an Instagram account called Shawn Mendes Eating, I joke (I check later and while there’s no account, there is a hashtag to follow). Can it feel as if he’s being watched? “I’m inherently [aware of] that all the time.” If it ever gets too much, he leaves rather than making a scene. Are you a people-pleaser, I ask? “Yeah, is that bad?” he smiles. “It can lead to failure, but if I fail trying to please everyone, then that’s OK.”

Mendes spends a lot of time contemplating people’s perceptions of him. Last year he publicly criticised a Rolling Stone cover story, expressing his regret that “the positive side of a story doesn’t always get fully told”. I assume it’s because the piece mentioned his penchant for smoking weed, a detail that had upset some fans. “That didn’t bother me,” he smiles. “Actually, I was happy about that because maybe it’s OK for them to understand that weed’s not a big deal.” He says he hasn’t smoked in three months.

Another part of the story focused on rumours about his sexuality. “For me it’s hurtful,” he says. “I get mad when people assume things about me because I imagine the people who don’t have the support system I have and how that must affect them.” (In late 2017 he posted an emotional Snapchat story: “First of all, I’m not gay. Second of all, it shouldn’t make a difference if I was or wasn’t.”) He sighs and says: “That was why I was so angry, and you can see I still get riled up, because I don’t think people understand that when you come at me about something that’s stupid you hurt so many other people. They might not be speaking, but they’re listening.”

He says the reason he criticised the article was over a small detail in which he mentioned Dua Lipa and her boyfriend, and how amazing it looked to be in love. “It made me seem so creepy,” he says. “If anything, the article made me realise your career isn’t over if people think you’re not perfect.” You could see how the creepy singleton tag might irk him, and also why it might stick – a lot of Mendes’s biggest singles play on the idea of him as the emotionally needy bloke who gets messed around and comes back for more.

Are you bored of being The Nice Guy? He splutters, clears his throat and sits bolt upright. “Yeah, I am! It sounds so stupid – to be a nice person is the best thing in the world – but, yeah, I’m 20 and I just want to have fun. What I don’t want to do is live the rest of my life thinking, ‘I wouldn’t do that because I’m known as Prince Charming.’ The second that someone corners you into a personality, you don’t want to be that person any more.”

Two weeks later, Mendes is onstage in Amsterdam. In keeping with the floral artwork for his recent self-titled album, a 50ft rose snakes up to the ceiling from the so-called B-stage where he’ll later serenade the throngs of teenage fans and nodding dads with a handful of ballads. Replica light-up roses (€20 a pop at the merch stand) bob about in the dark as Mendes runs through a hugely entertaining, PG-13 simulacrum of a rock show to ear-bleeding screams (“God I’m so old,” a woman sitting behind me yells as she surveys the crowd).

Keen to further align himself with the pantheon of rock’s smiliest exponents, tonight Mendes segues from a cover of Coldplay’s big-hearted anthem Fix You into his own, the Kings of Leon-esque In My Blood, a song that surprised fans by touching on depression. Tonight it’s transformed – with the help of a ticker tape explosion – into something close to catharsis.

“There’s nothing like being on stage – you feel like Superman!” he’d said earlier, claiming it to be better than sex or any high. “My goal now is to enjoy what I do more and more because otherwise it doesn’t fucking matter. I used to think it was all about the crowd, but I have to be happy within myself.” As he takes his millionth selfie, his face radiating pure elation, you believe he might be.

Shawn Mendes plays London O2 on 16, 17 and 19 April

Fashion editor Helen Seamons; grooming by Anna Thompson using Bobbi Brown and Monat; lighting by Michael Furlonger and Tilly Pearson; digital operator John Munro; fashion assistant Penny Chan; shot at 12th Knot, seacontainerslondon.com

#shawn mendes #shawn peter raul mendes #observer magazine #the observer

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ravencromwell · 4 years

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On Rage and Complexity interwoven with disability and queerness as filtered through Sarah Gailey's "maybe novel"

I've drifted into posting much of my more personal/metaish content on my dreamwidth In an effort to try and be better about cross-posting, thought I'd put a bit of meta up here first for a change.

We lament, often and at great length, about the kind of tales we'd like to see: with more diverse characters, yes, but also well-rounded diverse characters. As Liz Bourke concisely opined recently :

It’s troubling, sometimes, how much the issue of “good representation”—and the arguments around it—slides towards a pervasive sense that creators must depict people who are good and right and do right. It’s not necessarily an explicit dictate, but there’s an unspoken undercurrent, a sense that to portray ugliness, unlikeability, fury—to portray people who have responded to suffering with cruelty and bitterness and rage—is to be complicit in one’s own vilification. And to be vulnerable. Justify your existence is the sea we swim in, always against the current.

To be unmarked by compromise, to be without sharp edges that sometimes cut even when you don’t want them to—because the world is what it is, and sometimes what it is teaches you that the best defence against being hurt by cruelty is a really quick offense—is to either be very young or hardly human. But when we come to fictional portrayals, well… As you know, Bob, Bob gets to be seen as a difficult genius, where Alice is seen as a bitch or a Mary Sue.

And as insightful as that essay is, I'd argue that a central factor it overlooks, or doesn't articulate as well as I would like, is that the more intersections of marginalization your identity rests upon, the more that unspoken pressure kicks in. I certainly feel and see it, as both a queer and disabled person, and I have friends who feel that weight even more heavily--that internal voice policing their own writing even stronger when they're brown and/or queer and/or coming from decolonized places; even heavier if/when they and their compatriots are still untangling the effects of colonialism and modern neoimperalism. And so it becomes vitally imperative for all of us, using whatever privilege we have to work in concert to expand what characters can be portrayed in mainstream fiction. And oh, aint that an easy proclamation to make; doing the work, though, is far harder.

So y'all can imagine my overwelming delight when the Bourke essay and twitter convo that sparked it--linked to in essay and so very much worth a scan--dropped on the same week as my introduction to Sarah Gailey's maybe book Every bit of what I read of Gailey's makes my love of her work slowly, steadily increase, but to be perfectly honest, this's probably my favorite thing of hers so far. It's the thing that tugs sharpest at my heart, that I see so much of my own experience reflected in, and it's only two fuckin chapters in But even if Gailey never writes another word of this--for which a large chunk of me will mourn--, it'll still be one of the most special things I've encountered for being, in western lit terms, a masterclass in putting the characters we wanna see in the world. (I insert that caveat because I know well that folks like Viet Thanh Nguyen are doing astonishing, under-appreciated work in nonwestern litfic. But the genres I'm most familiar with, western scifi and fantasy, have a long way to go to catch up.)

There are, so far, four--maybe five? I can't quite tell--characters in this novel. Three of 'em have serious, life-changing disabilities, and one of them is delightfully, tragically queer. And they're all allowed to be wonderfully vicious and complicated. Just look at something like:

Cory Jefferson is a hunched-over curled-up boy with bones too long for his body and a jaw you could use to shovel the ashes out of a fireplace. His chest has the caved-in look that comes with growing tall before you can grow wide, and his hair is long enough to want cutting but not long enough to look like it’s long on purpose. His hoodie sleeves have holes in them, and the bottoms of his jeans are frayed from walking, and all his fingers are missing, cut off at the bottom knuckle a year ago on a night he can’t remember no matter how many Thursdays he spends looking back and forth between Piper and Ethan.

"I think we should go back," Piper says. She’s chewing on her thumb, and Cory is staring at her thumb while she chews on it, probably because that used to be his nervous tic. Piper used to nag him about it.

Piper Durham has a spine as straight as a plumb-line dropped down a well. Her dark hair falls past her shoulders, less straight than it used to be, and with a few strands of white that weren’t there before. She’s thin enough to look hollow, and pale enough to look scared. She wears large black sunglasses with scratched-up lenses. She wears them because they cover up the holes where her eyes used to be, back before the night a year ago that she can’t remember no matter how many Thursdays she spends chewing on her thumb.

"That’s a bad idea,” Cory snaps. “That’s the worst bad idea I’ve ever heard, and every time you bring it up you sound stupider."

"I don’t hear either of you coming up with something smarter,"Piper snaps back, and then she immediately closes her mouth. She’s biting her tongue, literally biting it, you can see her doing it, and then she flinches again and stops doing that, because biting her tongue is even worse than what she said.

Ethan’s hands rise from his lap. After a silent moment, Cory translates for him, so Piper can hear. "Ethan says it’s okay. He says not to worry about it. He says he’s used to people saying stuff like that."

"Sorry," Piper whispers.

Across from her, in his own folding chair, Ethan signs it’s okay again. Cory doesn’t translate this time, and the decision not to translate is a hateful one. He watches with narrowed eyes as Piper, who can’t see Ethan’s hands and will never see them again, returns to chewing on her thumb.

Ethan rests his square-fingered hands on his crossed legs and sits back in his chair, his every movement controlled. Some would call him poised. Some would call him that. He wears dark jeans, like always, and a button-down shirt, like always. His fingernails are short and clean, and his sandy-blonde hair is short and clean, and his shoes are polished and his clothes are pressed. He wears a clear plastic face mask to help heal the skin grafts on his face — his face, which was cut away from his skull in one tidy sheet. He does not speak because he has not had a tongue for a year, not since the night he lost his face, which is a night he can not remember no matter how many Thursdays he spends watching Cory and Piper hate each other.

These are people not made saintly by their experiences, who fuck up and apologize, and honestly still fuck up. But who're trying, in their deeply jaded fashion, to show solidarity after this horrific experience they've all been through. They have so many rough edges between them that it'd be impossible to navigate a room between them without cutting yourself to ribbons. Three disabled characters, never put on pedestals, allowed to be as complex as any able-bodied person. It's something still so astonishingly rare that it brought me to weeping this afternoon and meant more than I can say.

And to have these three disabled characters get language this evocative and gorgeous--to have Ethan dress so sharply! when to so many people disability translates to a disconnect from cultural touchstones like fashion. As someone who loves and wants to adopt men's fashion, that, too, meant so much. Every word of this is just so lush! I can't decide whether it's the description of Piper's spine or Cory's caved-in look that comes from growing tall before you can grow wide I love most as a descriptive passage, but to see disabled characters get this kind of attention is breathtaking.

And then there's this description of queerness, from our resident ghost:

The girls fascinated me in death the same way they had in life. For all my sixteen years alive, I was hypnotized by the way a girl can move through a room fast and subtle, like a secret moving through a church during service. The way girls laughed, the way they wrapped their hands around things they wanted to own, they way their eyes got sharp when they were angry. The way they smelled. Boys always seemed the same to me, all of them echoes of each other, all of them saying the same three sentences over and over again, all of them looking at each other with the same eyes. I could never tell the difference between them, not really. But girls. Girls.

It mattered to me while I was alive, but it didn’t make a difference in the way I lived my life, which was a regret I chewed on when I’d worn my other regrets into pulp. The town was small, and everyone knew everyone, and by the time I knew I wasn’t the only girl who watched girls the way I did, I’d been dead for too long to do anything about it. If I knew then what I know now, maybe I would have said something to Molly Two-tone, whose real name was Molly Tutonne and who had straight black hair that fell between her shoulderblades as black as roofing tar, who had bright green eyes and a laugh that you could hear from a block away. Molly Two-tone, who came to my house after I died and stood in the kitchen and whispered that if I was there and if I could hear her, she wanted me to know that she wished she’d kissed me when she had the chance.

There wasn’t a thing I could do to let her know I’d heard her. All I could do was watch her cry, and then watch her leave, closing the door quiet as she could when she went. She didn’t ever come back again.

God, that description guts me every damn time. There're so many of us for whom that metaphor applies: death can be substituted for disapproval or fear or a million other things that separate us from our queerness. I don't know if there's any way for our ghost to have a happy ending, or even something close to catharsis, but Gailey confronts the mess and complication of queerness in ways I've rarely seen.

And getting back to the original point of marginalized characters not being allowed to be cruel, look at this fucking gem on Piper:

Maybe I knew, when Piper walked in with Cory and Ethan. Maybe I knew she was Piper’s granddaughter. Or maybe I saw Piper and thought, for a breath-held instant, that Molly had come back to see me again. I lost track of time more and more often as the years went on, forgetting sometimes how far I was from my life. Forgetting that it had happened one hundred years before, and not just that instant.

When Piper eased the front door open and stepped inside, waving her hand in front of her face to ward off cobwebs, she looked just like Molly — that long black hair and those jewel-bright eyes, and a mouth with a smile hidden at the corners of it. But once the moment of hope melted away, I could see the differences between Piper and her grandmother, and there were plenty of them. And then two boys walked in behind her, and they shut the door.

Piper turned to face them, and she let that hidden smile loose, and it was a different kind of smile than I’d ever seen on Molly’s face — bright and sharp and cruel, ready to have that cruelty dialed up as far as it needed to go. When I saw that smile on Piper’s face, I knew.

I knew that she was nothing like Molly at all.

This's a character who is gonna shortly be disabled, and she's allowed all her sharp edges and I will never fucking be over it. This's a novel of sharp edges, not pulling a punch in deference to its subject matter, not doing a thing to make its readers comfortable or reassured. It's all the ferocity horror should be, with probably my favorite insight being:

When there is a house that no one will ever live in again, people bring their secrets to it. They hide things there — treasures and secrets and sins and violence and love. They turn it into a place to be cruel to each other, because they’re afraid, and fear slaps a dial onto cruelty and turns it up as high as it can go. They turn it into a place to want each other, because fear puts a dial onto want, too. They turn it into what it is, and without them, a house is just a house, no matter what happened there. It’s just empty.

a two-chapter masterclass in writing representation we wanna see.

I was a disabled child told to be kind, not to make folk nervous or bristle at their pity. To know my limitations and stay quiet, not rock the boat and I wouldn't be hurt or scorned more than was expected for my disability. They're lessons I'm spending much of my twenties unknotting, and this vicious, many-toothed novel has wrapped itself round my heart even in its infancy.

#book babbling #disability stuff #queer stuff #my meta #sarah gailey

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loghorizonfunfacts · 5 years

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Some personal Akatsuki ramblings

I rarely talk about Akatsuki herself in length -- usually when I’ve spoken about her in the past, it was about her role in the story as it pertains to Shiroe. I have a draft for my character analysis of her that’s been rotting away in my drafts for like, 2 or 3 years now but I’ve never been able to finish it. (I know what’s to come in future volumes, but without an official translation, I’m hesitant to take my own Google Translated-interpretations at face value.)

Some of this will be quite personal, maybe a bit controversial as well, so I’m keeping the bulk of it under a read more. (Mobile users... sorry.)

One thing that has slightly bothered me over my past few years in the LH fandom is how often Akatsuki gets reduced to either “best girl” or “failure love interest who sees a middle school girl as a rival”. Of course, there’s nothing wrong with liking Akatsuki for her awkward quirkiness, or disliking her because her insecurities (and the character arc resulting from it) are rooted in a rather unrealistic character gimmick (somehow looks like an elementary schooler as a college student?). But I think it’s completely overlooking the root reason why Akatsuki is the way she is.

While I initially had a negative reaction to volume 6 when I first read it, after time (and an official translation), I’ve found myself intensely relating to Akatsuki’s situation. Though I’m not completely qualified to speak about this and would like some insight into the matter from people with more knowledge/experience in the subject, it seems to me that Akatsuki may in fact be autistic (or at the very least, neurodivergent in some form).

I speak from the perspective of a (maybe) neurotypical person (more about that later), so perhaps someone would disagree with me. However, I think Akatsuki’s awkwardness is rooted in something deeper than mere “she isn’t good at talking,” which is where most people find her relatable and then stop there.

In volume 6, she explicitly says that she’s never had friends her own age. When she gets grilled for her lack of communication, she bemoans the fact that she doesn’t know how to express her feelings and can’t just show people what she’s thinking. Even Shiroe points out in volume 5 that they have difficulty keeping conversations going, and after he asks her to provide a conversation topic when she protests this, she comes up short.

Akatsuki’s almost hyper-focus on the master-ninja roleplaying (which Shiroe also explicitly gets weirded out by, and cause other characters concern) seems in line with the “restricted interests and repetitive behaviors” often found in those with autism. Whenever Shiroe tries to gently suggest he’s not interested in his role in their assumed roleplay, she digs her heels in and he gives up -- perhaps an example of “trouble understanding another person’s point of view,” another trait common in those with autism.

So, what’s that all got to do with me? Well, simply put, I saw a lot of myself in Akatsuki. The difference between series I’m intensely interested in (special interest/hyperfixation?) and ones that I casually like are like day and night. For series that I’m truly into, my interest spans several years, and usually involves maintaining or aiding a wiki about it or otherwise having blogs devoted to analyzing it thoroughly. It ends up eating at my time and my attention to my own detriment, and as William later says in volume 7, I even think about it when I eat and when I shower. This line in particular hit home:

Akatsuki had been avoiding the things she really had to do. She’d worked desperately at only the things she liked doing, and had tried to convince herself that was effort.

Oftentimes, I know what I have to do. My homework, my job search, networking with people, building relationships. But if it doesn’t interest me, no matter how hard I push and pull at it, I end up going back to the things I like doing or thinking about. Sometimes, I don’t even like what I do, I just do it because it’s something I can do.

My lack of communication skills is also much like Akatsuki’s. It’s not a casual “lol what even is talking to people”; reading Akatsuki’s introspection and seeing things from her point-of-view felt like I was seeing things through my own perspective of the world.

I don’t know how to express myself and sometimes, I don’t even know if there’s something to express. I can be “my way or the highway” to the point where it’s driven people away. I can’t keep up a conversation and I’m perfectly content with not talking with others. I find small talk inane and people casually conversing with me (whether they’re strangers or friends) puts me on edge.

When Akatsuki struggles to express familiarity with the other girls, it takes Rayneshia declaring her a friend to give her the words to speak. Throughout high school, there were only a few people I can definitely say was a friend. Everyone else, I could never get a read on. Did they consider me a friend? Was I an annoyance, or was I just wallpaper in the backdrop of the school? I was rarely ever anyone’s “first pick” for anything and I usually stayed to myself as to not cause trouble for anyone; I learned in middle school not to stick myself into already-established friend groups.

In a lot of ways, Akatsuki probably felt the same about the Watermaple group. She was there on Shiroe’s orders, not because the other girls there liked her. So in her eyes, the greatest courtesy she can do is eliminate the threat on her own... which she fails to do.

What makes Akatsuki even more relatable is that she isn’t explicitly autistic; Mamare has never spoken about whether his characters are societal commentary (though personally, I think they are). The most he’s ever said about them is that he tries to make them like people he knows.

Maybe Mamare isn’t even (fully) aware that Akatsuki was written in this way. Perhaps he wrote her thinking “someone out there will relate to her.” And he’s right. In a way, not making her (possible) neurodivergence solidified canon is what makes her even more relatable to me.

As a result of my Chinese-American background, the sort of cultural perspective on neurodivergence I’ve been raised in is, to put it bluntly, “Well, tough.” If you don’t have a severe disability, that means you don’t have a disability, and you better damn well act like a normal person. (For some measure of “normal” that I have yet to figure out.)

Things like autism and developmental orders were treated as something for “others.” In fact, for most of my elementary through high school years (I lived in a predominantly white neighborhood), I genuinely thought autism and ADHD were a white people thing. To be fair, given some cursory research into the general view on autism in China and Japan, they probably think so too -- if they even know about such things at all.

A fair number of the general populace seem to be unaware of them; I’ve seen Japanese tweets spreading awareness about ADHD on twitter, and a JP twitter mutual had a mental breakdown as a result of their ADHD and anxiety making them unable to perform at work. It makes me wonder if Akatsuki exhibits autistic traits because Mamare knows people who act similarly (or perhaps, he can relate to them himself), but none of them actually know that there’s an actual underlying reason and it’s not a mere relatable personality quirk.

So in the end, I have absolutely no idea whether I’m normal or not. I can’t tell if I’m actually neurodivergent or if I’m faking it to make an excuse for myself. I’m Akatsuki as she watches Minori and Shiroe at the end of volume 5: feeling helpless, knowing that our juniors are “ahead” of us and “more successful.” We want to push our ineptitude on our inexperience and our sub-par equipment, but what we’re really lacking is interpersonal skills and, even though we know that’s what we’re missing, but we have no idea how to work on that.

#log horizon #akatsuki #lhff rants #get to know lhff

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invitedeath · 4 years

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SEPHIROTH — relationship & plotter call.

hello lovely isolians! a new year means new plots and ideas, hence why i’m reposting this mammoth of a plotter once again!

so liking this post means that you are 100% down with interacting with me in some fashion! ways this might happen may be... → me sending you im’s / tumblr asks to plot or chat! i can be quite a talkative person as a forewarning, as i love discussing rp things as well as getting to know my rp partner! → if we are already friends on discord or twitter, i might message you that way to ask you about plots or ideas! → exchanging ask memes / meme day things that might be a bit more personal than a general sentence meme → possible random starters or musings dedicated to your muse, sometimes i get sudden inspiration for these things! → general tomfoolery and shenanigans in character ( and ooc if you like )

you can contact me via the im system here, by the /ask feature or you can ask for my discord/twitter if you prefer those. just let me know.

FRIENDS.

↪ however! i am down to... vague villain-alliance type deals with fellow power players here. he wont consider your muse a friend, but rather a pawn or even a means to an end, that end being his goal of generally using this island for his means, apologies. preferably the intellectual, over-powered, edgy types will probably gravitate towards him more, but i’m willing to throw anything at the wall to see what sticks. he’s not a nice guy, by any means, but it would be interesting to see how he has to play the game here to his advantage until he regains powers.

↪ warriors, outcasts, villains, intellectuals, fellow puppet-master type villains especially, those he ‘befriended’ in past events, perhaps even neighbours to his house would all be likely connections. friends of those he has worked alongside or met, or those wishing to seek great power and know of his existence might seek him out also, but yes... ““““friends”“““ is a very difficult term for him.

ENEMIES.

↪ heroes of all shapes and sizes might feel threatened by the ominous presence of a monster who seems inclined to side with chaos as opposed to peace. he’s not outright starting fires here but he is present in the more morbid moments of isolian discourse, an omen of death lingering on the sideline. he has his plans and he may just mock you with them, but in general since he does and WILL cut down npcs ( or players ) alike, he makes for the perfect villain. BE WARY he has a few unlocked powers and knows the island well. fighting him would not guarantee your victory.

↪ he has traumas. plenty of them. some of them originate from white labs and white coats, meaning he might just view you as an enemy if you’re a scientist or someone who dabbles in human experimentation. his reasons are his own, but let’s just say that if you consider him a good candidate for poking and prodding with scientific equipment, you may just lose an arm.

↪ i LOVE fight threads especially really gritty, bloody types. i would prefer to plot these out so we know what’s going on beforehand, but feel free to develop these with me honestly i love a good old classic villain hero showdown. i determine winners based on the powers unlocked or a random generator. i don’t want to win every fight, but i also don’t want to unrealistically lose unless the odds are 50/50. i only write fights that both you and i are comfortable with ending!

↪ be a human. that’s it, you’re officially the enemy. a cocky, arrogant, interfering one would be oh so annoying. he wont attack because you’re a human, exactly... but the attitude that goes with one. considering yourself the top of the food chain, for example, might just end up being the defining reason for you own self becoming the meal.

→ police/law enforcers/general crime stoppers might try and get involved when they see him stabbing someone with that great big sword of his. typically he’ll turn the sword on them too, but if you’re interesting enough, or maybe aren’t as pure as you seem, he may just put it down long enough to chat. typically though you will get stabbed. sorry.

LOVERS.

↪ for the last year i’ve pretty much tried to stay away from developing anything too romantic. besides one sort of amusing game he has with a character currently in the group ( lanque bombyx ), sephiroth has avoided love or relationships or even flirting really. that being said, once he has ranked up and my development for this current “arc” of his character in isola comes to a close, i will be opening him up more for shipping potential!

however for the meantime...

MISC.

↪ places you may find him can include: ↪ near his residence ( personal housing; castle in the mistwood ) ↪ fibonacci ward ( levels 3 and 4 especially due to the museums and things. but also the lowest levels, he tends to wander around there as if searching for something... feel free to try and figure out what it is ) ↪ cotes ward ( perhaps wandering by the castle when there aren’t people there, reading alone there or writing is also very likely. ) ↪ golden ward ( the university if only to borrow books from the library, he can read there for days at a time without sleep or food. he reads all kinds of things, both fiction and non fiction. ) ↪ archimedes ward ( pretty much everywhere in this ward, it’s my favourite. he enjoys music and art sometimes. hit me with that biblical shit. ) ↪ the mistwood ( 100% down to be that cryptic creature that leads you from your path to your likely doom ) ↪ the city of yesteryear ( typically the underground areas, just investigating really. any strange occurrences would likely draw him there as would any presence of a strong power. ) ↪ atop skyscrapers, looming at the ‘edge’ of the world we can currently explore, typically more active at night, perhaps at the scene of a murder / attack ( plotted ), if he’s feeling extra ballsy he might be found in a bar but its very rare. very VERY rare, wandering broken buildings, invading scientific facilities or buildings. he’s not going to be found in busy, socially strained areas basically.

↪ i’m down for any ideas you might have too for plots so feel free to just message me if nothing here caters!

STATS PAGE | APPLICATION | PLOTTING PAGE

#isola plotting call #「 LIFESTREAM ; OUT OF CHARACTER 」#long post

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babywhereyougone · 5 years

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[Translation] The Television 2019-02 (original scan: nsnsns_mmm@twitter)

Takahashi to Inoue: I have an image of you having more defined muscles before, but you seem more soft lately…? My apologies if I’ve mistaken, have you been slacking off (lol). Inoue to Takahashi: You’re so good at talking. Always a big help for us. I would like you to practice your dancing a bit more (lol). As the oldest, please keep leading us forward!

Igari to Hashimoto: In 2018, the two of us were the jokesters causing Yuto stress (lol). Especially during the summer concerts MC, we were such fools. Let’s be even crazier in 2019! Hashimoto to Igari: Please keep working hard on your rapping. Go for a blond, fur costumes, rough around the edges kind of feel. Let’s work hard to have a concert at a huge venue one day.

Hashimoto to Sakuma: Please give me some of your height! I’m the tallest in the Hashimoto family, but I want to be even taller so Saku-chan, could you please give me some of yours? I want to keep up! Sakuma to Hashimoto: It’s gotten colder, but you’re still wearing sandals? And you keep saying it’s cold, it’s cold—please explain!? (lol) You’re gonna catch a cold?

Takahashi to Igari: Your hair is so long now. I think it looks really good! You dyed your hair purple, but it looks kinda red too—it’s really well done. Igari to Takahashi: Yuto and I MC’d together, and that was when Yuto transforms! You start up the conversation with the members, and the five of us in a rhythm.

Sakuma to Igari: We’re the same age, but it does’t feel like that at all. Thank you for always having an idea when I’m at a loss—in both work and in private. Igari to Sakuma: It feels like we’re always together—we go shopping together, we go out to eat together, we go to Disneyland together. The two of us had so much going wild at Disneyland from morning to evening.

Hashimoto to Inoue: Realized we only have a few more months left of high school! Although it was tough balancing school and work, we had a lot of fun when I look back on it. Let’s go all out and have the best time during our graduation ceremony! Inoue to Hashimoto: It’s almost our graduation. The always cheery mood maker Hashimoto was there at school so it always a good time. Looking forward to working with you graduation onwards, too!

Takahashi to Hashimoto: Everyone changed their hairstyles in 2018, but Hashimoto-kun went the above and beyond. I worry about your scalp, but I look forward to even more of your unique hairstyles! Hashimoto to Takahashi: You have to give a serious comment at press conferences, so thank you for being the ones who makes the statement. Because you take on that responsibility, I am free to say whatever I like so you’re a big help!

Igari to Inoue: We don’t really go shopping together, but we often discuss each other’s fashion. I trust Mizuki-kun’s point of view since he gives objective opinions. Inoue to Igari: Thank you for writing the rap. Thank you for creating the choreography. Thank you for everything you did for our concert. Never lose your unique style!

Inoue to Sakuma: Saku-chan’s jokes are pretty boring, but when it’s really bad, it’s kind of soothing. You always have that kind of humor. Also, how tall are you now? You’re freaking huge (lol). Sakuma to Inoue: You were drinking vegetable juice a lot during this summer; have you been skipping it lately? You actually don’t like vegetable juice, right? How do you really feel about it?

Takahashi to Sakuma: There were a lot of days where you would call me, “Let’s go have yakiniku!,” and we’d go and eat so much. Let’s do it again. Also, Saku-chan, you snore pretty loudly when you’re tired (lol). Sakuma to Takahashi: Your music selection timing is so not courteous! When everyone is exhausted, you play hardcore rock music and it’s like… what the heck, now!? Your energy level doesn’t line up with everyone else (lol).

- - - - - - - - - -

My Lucky Item:

Hashimoto: I love sunglasses, and I have more than 20 pairs of them. I’m currently into the 100% UV polarized ones.

Inoue: A good luck charm from Kurumazaki Shrine. My grandpa and grandma bought it for me when I was in my third year of junior high. It’s always in the pocket of my bag.

Takahashi: White wristwatch. To celebrate my entrance to university, my parents bought it for me. I got to pick out the one I liked.

Igari: I’ve only worn it for about six months, but my heart charm necklace. It’s like a good luck charm to get through anything.

Sakuma: Cafe IC card. Had to queue up to buy it so it’s rare and memorable.

- - - - - - - - - -

From concerts to stage plays, HiHi Jets had an incredibly busy year. Takahashi: During the summer, we had our first solo concert at Tokyo EX Theatre which was a huge deal. Up until then, we were backups to our senpai so this was the first time only the five of us were the main acts for the entire show. Being able to meet that challenge has given us confidence. Inoue: Yeah. What we wanted to do became clear, and we were able to show the color (essence/character). Igari: It was a busy year~ Hashimoto: Yeah. A really fulfilling year! Sakuma: We learned a lot when we did “DREAM BOYS” together with Kis-My-Ft2. Inoue: Especially the comedy “time.” Igari: Mizuki-kun, Hashimocchan, and Saku-chan took on the challenge of comedy skits. Sakuma: Yeah. There was a scene in the play where we had to do comedy skits… it was so hard. Hashimoto: It really was~ Was able to do my best with detailed guidance from Senga (Kento)-kun. Sakuma: Senga-kun was watching us from the wings everyday. Hashimoto: We tried harder to make Senga-kun laugh more than we did the audience (lol). Takahashi: Senga-kun laughed so much. Whatever the skit was for the audience, he’d burst out in laughter. Inoue: Getting Senga-kun to laugh is enough! Igari: The success rate of the audience laughing was like 1 out of 33. Hashimoto: When was that one time!? (lol) Igari: The last one with the cockroach. That one where Mizuki-kun freaked out got the laughs. Sakuma: Yeah, that one had the audience rolling. Hashimoto: So, the other ones where all fails? (lol) Inoue: They were all winners to Senga-kun so we good.

Who is the MVP of 2018? Hashimoto: Everyone! Everyone was amazing! Everyone: Yaaay! (high fives) Takahashi: So, how about we go clockwise (around the table) and say one amazing thing about each person. Up first, Mizuki-kun. Your solo performance of “Think u x.” was perfectly done and amazing ne. Inoue: Amazing ne. So next up is “ne”? Takahashi: We’re not playing shiritori here! (lol) Inoue: (Ignores Takahashi) Ne… Ne-oki ga ikemen (The person who looks most handsome right out of bed), Hashimochan! N? Hashimoto: You ended the shiritori game! (lol). Well, whatever. Gari-san’s rap is the best. Igari: Saku-chan got taller! Sakuma: That’s what you’re commenting on!? Takahashi: This veered off real quick (lol). Igari: No, I’m serious. His height really accentuates his dancing. Sakuma: Hehehe (happy). So, last one is Yuto. 2018 brought us all together. We’re an immature bunch, and if Yuto wasn’t here… Hashimoto: If he wasn’t here, we’d be killing it. Inoue: Yes, this is work after all. Takahashi: Hey!! (lol) Igari: Anyway, but really, we have a lot of fun because Yuto is here with us. And so, I hope 2019 also treats us well!

- - - - - - - - - -

Top Recs of 2018! J Concerts & Stage Shows

Hashimoto: Kis-My-Ft2’s concert at MetLife Dome had so many fireworks—they way they went off was insanely intense.

Inoue: Johnny’s Jr. Matsuri. I was impressed by SixTONES’ remix medley of their original songs. So invigorating.

Takahashi: At Johnny’s Jr. Matsuri, the way all the groups had their own ways of engaging the audience—from dancing, band instruments, etc.—gave me goosebumps.

Igari: Kisumai’s concert. The huge venue was something I hadn’t seem before, and I was envious. I bet roller skating on the huge stage would be really fun!

Sakuma: Natsu Matsuri! Hadaka no Shōnen (Sexy Bishōnen’s show). The day I saw it was Taisho’s birthday. They celebrated it together with the fans during MC, and it was a lot of fun.

#hihi jets #takahashi yuto #inoue mizuki #igari soya #hashimoto ryo #sakuma ryuto #translation #magazine #*

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