#and not in the mood to play nice and pander by being like

[heph]

Hey, I remember you mentioning on your IG something about two types of popular artists and one being good at social media and the other being good at art or something like that (I can't really remember lol). But it got me thinking, any tips for how to be good at social media? Cuz I'm certainly not even after posting art for six years lol

Heya!

What I meant by that is that there are traits that allow you to grow on social media, and traits that determine what a highly skilled artist is, and those traits do not always necessarily overlap.

I've seen so many amazing artists that post artwork that blow my head off, and yet they don't have many likes. On the other hand, some artists at the same skill level who draw more popular things will get way more attention.

That is not to say that either is the correct way to create art, but there is definitely a formula to social media that is in play.

There are a lot of posts about how to grow a social media account, particularly on TikTok, YouTube and Instagram art spheres, and imo you really need to examine what you want from your art before jumping into social media mode

The stuff you create to pander to social media might not be art that you want to create at all - I'm lucky, because I am less artist more storyteller, and what I enjoy is telling jokes and silly stories to liven up people's moods :] this, of course, conveniently does well on social media. On a personal note, I have a history of being a recluse and not connecting well with people, and art is my way of trying to communicate my feelings, one way or another.

So of course, if you draw for any reason other than my own, my approach to art and it's relation to social media might be inappropriate for you.

All that being said, if u take a look at those "get big on social media" videos they always cite the same few points... And you can look into that, for sure, but this video sums up how I feel about all that.

I spent like 20 minutes drafting words after the above paragraph, but I really ended up regurgitating sentiments from the video... So really don't listen to me, listen to that video

EDIT:

I just realised I didnt actually answer the question with my anecdotal experience, so here's a list of things I did

1. Posted like 3 doodles a day on social media

I did this for 6 months on a side account on Twitter recently and got the account to 11k followers... And I did this for 3 months on Instagram a few years ago and I think got 3.5k followers. Of course, do not spam maliciously and make sure your art is still of good quality, but for those artworks I posted quickly, I did not colour, and mostly did clean sketches. This also trains you in the matter of line confidence haha. Again, this worked for me because of my set of circumstances (love for the media, want to tell stories, simple art style)

2. Focus on my favourite aspects of media

This helps with respect to burnout - kinda hard to burnout when you love what you're making! For me, it's character interactions and comics. I want to see my blorbos kiss and if I'm not the one drawing it who will?!

3. Interact with people

People eat up work that they can interact with. A choose your own story situation, one of those like/rt to strip a character 😭 those do numbers for a reason.

Additionally, if you post stuff people love, people will respond to it with comments, maybe their own headcanons, adding on to the work... I've gone into long looong Twitter thread conversations with people who added onto my ideas that I threw up onto the screen and I think it's also a nice thing to do to respond to positive comments haha... I'm not very good at this (read: bad at communication)

I think that's the key points... Hope this helps!

#people who are good at social media are good at marketing basically #theyre their own hype man who has something cool to show #and would like to show everyone that cool thing! #its not purely about art its also about charisma and trying to get people to be convinced that youre cool as well #thats why there are social media influencers #people who vlog and get popular because of the way they present themselves #me i am very much my own hype man #not really because im particularly good at art (im not) but because i have so many thoughts in my head that i want to share #and i need people to also be poisoned by these thoughts so i enthusiastically promote it #side eyes the blood soup comic i dedicated like 20 pages to #on my end it comes from the love of media and my desire to build upon the established canon #but i understand that not everyone is so intensely passionate about their own work... but yknow #you need to love your own art in order for it to succeed #just like you need to love yourself before you can grow as a person #its easy for me to say because i do have social media attention though #i remember so desperately chasing social media validation when i was 16 #so really i cant really say much regarding that haha #but do watch the video and hopefully it helps! #i wrote so many words... #heph answered

[bvrbelize2]

Restaurants in San Pedro, Belize To Indulge in the Lip Smacking Local Caribbean Flavors

Restaurants in San Pedro, Belize offer a wide variety of cuisines that reflect the town's diverse history. You can find everything from Mexican to Salvadoran dishes, as well as traditional Belizean fare. The town is also home to several seafood restaurants, which is not surprising given its location on the coast. No matter what you're in the mood for, you'll be able to find it in San Pedro. And if you're curious about the stories behind the dishes, just ask a local. They'll be more than happy to share their culture with you.

San Pedro, Belize is a small town located on the eastern coast of Central America. The town is known for its beautiful beaches, coral reefs, and clear blue waters. It is also known for its unique and rustic atmosphere, as well as its traditional flavors in both Mexican and Caribbean cuisine. The restaurants in San Pedro pride themselves on being authentically flavorful instead of pandering towards tourists with modifications for their taste buds only - giving visitors an insight into life as it believed before globalization changed everything! This is a town where you can truly indulge in the flavors of the region, and get a taste of traditional cooking that has been passed down through generations. So if you're looking for an authentic culinary experience, be sure to check out the San Pedro Belize restaurants!

Aji Tapa is more than just a restaurant - it's an experience. The laidback atmosphere and beautiful views will make you feel like you are in paradise as we promise wholesome food without pretense or fuss, only steps away from the Caribbean Sea! With our wide variety of tapas options for when hunger strikes; come find out what makes us different at Aje tapas bar & bistro on Ambergris Caye

The Truck Stop is a unique and popular food truck park in San Pedro, Belize. Visitors come to enjoy the open seating area with various street-food options like Latin American cuisine or southeast Asian dishes as well as pizzas from local restaurants around town that are all set on display for you to choose from! If it’s nice out there during your visit then head over to one of our gazebos where they have movies playing at any time so everyone can watch together while eating what seemed like endless amounts (and flavors) of ice cream

This authentic Mayan restaurant is one of the most revered dining joints in San Pedro. The menu specializes in savory seafood and has come a long way from being just a takeout window to now having multiple locations across Belize, including this more giant branch on Orange Walk Street where you can find plenty for both locals as well as visitors alike!

Click on the below link for more information: 

Wild Mangos is a must-visit for those looking to enjoy some delicious Caribbean cuisine. With an array of vegan and vegetarian options, this restaurant will not disappoint any visitor! Mangoes offer both locals as well as travelers alike incredible food that's unique from other restaurants in the area--try their pork tenderloin or pumpkin ravioli while watching waves crash against blue sea walls all around you…

The Belize Chocolate Company offers a variety of delicious chocolate drinks and treats that are made from organically grown ingredients. The cafe has an adorable beach-chic aesthetic, with soothing ocean views as well! You can satiate your sweet tooth while indulging in these scrumptious beverages on-site or buy gifts for friends back home so they know how much you care about their happiness too

The friendly staff, delicious food, and scenic views make Blue Water Grill a popular destination for tourists seeking to escape city life's hustle. With ceviche as their specialty dish (known locally), this restaurant serves up fresh seafood in alleyway fashion with an incredible breakfast menu that will leave you wanting more!

Estel’s Dine by the Sea is a local favorite for both tourists and locals. Open as early as 6 am, this restaurant serves up fry jacks with freshly squeezed fruit juices alongside Mayan eggs cooked to perfection on your choice of tabletop grill or skillet; they also have plenty of other breakfast burritos & johnnycakes (including gluten-free options) that will make you feel like home from head-to-toe! If there are no tables available outside when it comes time to enjoy some spectacular views while sipping away at one tasty meal after another – then go inside where all things wooden awaits—from countertops made out of trees grown right here in Belize to chairs crafted patiently over

Have you ever had a meal so romantic that it leaves memories of your loved ones forever? If so, then this is the place for sure. The Hidden Treasure in Belize City offers candlelight dinners and fresh tropical air to make any couple's night unforgettable! With only two days per week where they serve both lunch AND dinner (Weds.-mon), there's plenty enough time to explore all these tasty choices on offer here at their award-winning restaurant such as Caribbean cuisine or Latin American dishes - not just one but many different cuisines from around central America will be available when choosing what type suits best needs). Couples looking forward to having something special should definitely go ahead and book themselves some table space soon

The food in San Pedro is so good, you'll want to go back again and this time for dinner. We've carefully curated a menu full of authentic Belizean dishes that will show off what our country has available - including some surprises! Click here today if visiting Aji Tap was too much work (we're sure it wasn’t).

#Restaurants in San Pedro #Belize #San Pedro Belize restaurants

[fiddleabout]

are you for or against private health insurance?

i am for fully affordable, fully accessible coverage for every person residing in the united states.  full stop.

but let’s talk for a hot sec about why you felt the need to pose this question the way you did, because it indicates a fundamental misunderstanding of the way the health care system is structured in the united states and what it takes to fix it:

like it or not, the system we have now isn’t going to just go away.  do you remember the aca?  that was the most monumental systemic overhaul of the health care system in united states history, and it didn’t even try to get rid of private insurance in favor of a single-payer system as a way to create universal coverage.  it was designed to create universal coverage via medicaid expansion and individual mandate, and it was gutted from the start by the nascent tea party in 2009.  it was still passed and showed marked improvement in providing health care for people in the us over time, and then 2016 happened and now you have trump’s administration and seema varma, the cms administrator, doing their level fucking best to shit all over it every day until it falls apart the rest of the way.

now. let’s say your best case scenario happens.  bernie wins! (i’m going out on a limb to guess you’re a bernie sanders fan.  no idea why.)  we get a democratic senate and house!  medicare is expanded to cover every person in the united states!  private insurance is eliminated! yay!

this is probably just a weirdly technical hangup but roll with me for a minute: what happens to said insurance companies?  bcbsa has something like 35 companies within it but if they’re all suddenly kaput, where does their capital go?  is the government seizing their liquidity?  what about their debt?  united health group is one of the largest insurers in the united states, yeah, but they also have a bunch of data analytics subsidiaries and clinical consulting arms, not all of which are located in the united states and some of which are heavily intertwined with the insurance branch.  how do you split that up?  what about employees that have been investing their bonuses in stock options?  what about the stock exchange in general if you eliminate an entire multi-billion dollar industry?  does the government cover all of that?

but: now a lot of people are now unemployed.  and i’m not talking about insurance company executives, i’m talking about the hundreds of thousands of admin-level employees.  i used to be one of them and i made barely above minimum wage.  those people don’t have a golden parachute or cushy savings account to fall back on, and now there’s a heavily crowded employers’ market picking and choosing overqualified, nearly retirement-age people who are all looking for jobs.  idk if you remember what the job market was like post-recession in 2009/2010 or.  like.  if you were even out of the sixth grade at that point.  but i was fresh out of undergrad and interviewing for minimum wage jobs against people with 20+ years experience, and basically none of us were getting jobs no matter how much experience we had because there would be sixty people, applying for one minimum-wage no-benefits receptionist job that required you to have a bachelor’s degree and minimum three years experience in an office just to be a mail clerk.  the economy would be crippled.

but let’s say that white jesus has decided that everyone who was working at a private insurance company will be guaranteed a government job of some kind, or like.  just.  any job.  idk.  i’d hope anyone that proposes eliminating an entire industry that employs over two million people would have a contingency plan in place to help them find employment.  but let’s say he does!  now we have a true single payer system, where everyone is covered, and private insurance is illegal, and everyone has a job.  things are GREAT.

okay.  awesome.  but now you have to integrate everything into one system.  there are a handful of major electronic medical record systems– epic, cerner, allscripts, etc.– in the country.  most hospital and provider systems have invested millions of dollars in custom-designed systems that integrate across multiple sites and interface directly into their major insuring partners’ systems. billing is based on icd-10 codes but aside from that unified– and, importantly, clinical, not specifically billing– coding system, billing requirements are wholly different.  do you push everyone onto one system?  will there be subsidies to provider systems who, in good faith to maintain compliance with the government’s ongoing meaningful use requirements to date, have invested millions of dollars in functional ehr systems that they’ll have to potentially completely overhaul now that the billing approach is completely different?  

but let’s say that they figure THAT out.  everything is great.  medicare for all!  no private insurance!  the private companies were broken up completely and amicably and no national, state, municipal, or county economy was crippled!  all of the millions of people who lost their jobs immediately found new ones!  the billing system was perfectly designed and implemented and everything is beautiful smooth sailing!  this is good shit, yo.

not to be a wrench or anything, but: remember that bit up there about the aca being gutted even more once the administration changed?  yeah.  so.  this administration that’s done all of these nigh-miraculous things?  ends in eight years.  then what?  it’s been less than one term since obama was out of office and the system has been put into a steeper nosedive than ever as the shit trifecta of trump/varma/azar pulled back on patient protections and price regulation, started pushing for medicaid work requirements and block grant funding, and generally are doing their damndest to just fuck everyone who isn’t them over.  so what happens when we hit that term limit in eight years after whomever it is–sanders, warren, literally anyone– leaves office?

the backlash against obama came in a myriad of ways– racism and islamaphobia, sure, but also very deeply rooted in values-based (and let’s be clear because i’m sure someone is going to warp this: i don’t agree with those values that say that all-for-me-bootstrap-your-own-way-up, but the fact remains that they are, in fact, value judgments in a value system) policy objections, and the aca was the thing that was most cited against him by rival politicians.  do you really think that an even larger, more drastic overhaul of the system won’t account for more egregious backlash?  i’m all for the importance of ideals and values, but i’m also a fan of things working and surviving.  i’m not even confident we’re going to make it out of this administration with medicaid intact, to say nothing of the way that social security–y’know, medicare– is going to be insolvent by like 2030.  our best case scenario won’t be starting on the foot we’re on now, it’ll be starting five steps back in the midst of a pending economic downturn.

it’d be great if we could get rid of private insurance.  honestly.  like, full stop, no sarcasm.  i have existed in this health care system in so many ways– as a patient when i was fortunate enough to have great coverage; as a patient when i had terrible coverage; as a patient when i had no coverage; as a minimum-wage analyst at an insurance company who had to come into work deathly sick for a month straight just so i could almost make rent; as a consultant working with a bunch of other people who’re doing their actual fucking best to try and make a broken system work in a way that makes it affordable and accessible to everyone. i’m fully away of the problems caused, iterated, and perpetuated by private insurance– and i am painfully, brutally aware of how extraordinarily broken it is.  i’ve had to choose between paying medical bills before they go to collection and paying for rent or food.  i’ve stayed above water solely because of luck and privilege.  my entire career is tied to trying to find a way to fix some of these problems in a way that lasts.

but i also know that the wholesale removal of the private insurance industry is hamstrung by the way the country’s government is set up and that as nice as it is to talk about living in a world where this system– this capitalist, racist, sexist, homophobic, cruel, vindictive system–  the fact remains that this is where we are.  this is what we have, and we have to live with it, and i’d rather fix it right than keep going forward one step and then back two, like what happened with the aca and like i very much believe would happen with a medicare for all implementation.  i’d love to be proven wrong, truly; i just don’t think that i will be.  

so let’s go back to your original question.  maybe you want me to say that i support private health insurance so that you can call me a dirty capitalist who’s been fooled into hating on medicare for all by lobbyists and propaganda.  but let’s go with a few nice and concise tl;dr bullet points:

i think accessible, affordable healthcare is a fundamental human right

i think the united states needs to have universally available, universally accessible, universally affordable healthcare coverage for every person living in the country

“are you for or against private insurance” is a grossly reductive question that presumes that the existence of private insurance is the one fundamental deciding factor regarding the health care debate, and it’s not

so if you’re looking for a simple answer, let’s go with this: universal, affordable, accessible coverage.  that’s what i’m for.  

#Anonymous #us politics #answer this yes or no question so i can gauge your opinions about a subject i clearly don't understand #i am so fucking tired of people coming at me on this #every year when that enrollment post is going around #a fucking REFERENCE post on hey our system sucks here's how to navigate it during open enrollment #i get people either reblogging it to shit on anyone who isn't gungho on M4A #or coming into my inbox to blast me about it #and now there's this bullshit #i watched this tank kamala harris's fucking candidacy and i'm still livid about that #and not in the mood to play nice and pander by being like #hurr durr ofc private insurance is evil #like fucking yes of course it is #but it's so fucking embedded in the gd economy that you can't just get rid of it #i lived through one recession and jobs crisis i do not want another one #especially when it won't! fucking! fix the problems! #and i stg if someone tries to throw that yale article at me i'll fucking scream #their numbers are based on best case and eve nthen their assumptions #like #80b in potential savings from avoidable hospital admissions bc of increased preventive care #when preventive care provision is NOT proven to mitigate all unnecessary hospital use unfortunately #you'd think it would! but it doesn't as much as we think! #M4A isn't going to magically fix things and i'm sorry if that complicates your idealistic little bubble #but that's the real world! i'd love if it wasn't but it is! #we live HERE and NOW and all we can do is try to make positive lasting change #and if someone can make M4A work then like fuck man i'll eat every hat i own and gladly #but i just do not see how this industry that i live my life in is going to change like that #it's just not

[sereisstuff]

ɪɴꜱᴛᴀɴᴛᴀɴᴇᴏᴜꜱ ᴄᴜʀꜱᴇꜱ

noun

plural noun: curses

1.

a solemn utterance intended to invoke a supernatural power to inflict harm or punishment on someone or something.

Tale of the story: Jungkook; a demigod. Fell in love with a mortal, in most stories the mortals die. What makes you think this one is any different.

Plus size reader (Not implied, but I only write for plus size readers so any, and every story on my page that I’ve written is implied, plus-size reader)

Warnings: self-inflicted harm (not intentionally) mentions of blood. Swearing? very rushed. Little dialogue at times. Angst! Fantasy.

Inspiration was when I was staring out the car window like four hours ago, so do what you will with that information. Song's I recommend is a runaway from aurora and the seed.

Not proofread

Your hair bustled in the wind, mimicking the waves before them. A deafening shriek, melodiously flowing through the air as the heavy roars of Poseidon fell before you. Oh, how you wished this day could end, it was all due to your imaginative stupidity which led you to your untimely decisions. Your curiosity piqued a much greater meaning as you stumbled upon something you shouldn’t have, something so tender that not even your callous human hands could grasp.

It was a warm day when you stumbled upon Jungkook bathing under the waterfall, by far the most exquisite figure you’ve ever laid your eyes on. It was odd, he was handsome, so handsome your mind couldn’t comprehend his features. So defined in the most perfect places but even his flaws held beauty. Something you wouldn't ever say to yourself, you were so busy lost in his exotic features that as you examined him, your once starstruck eyes turned into shocked ones.

His feet replaced by fins connecting his toes, strong legs glistening under the water almost gloss like. If you hadn't gasped aloud, you wouldn’t have caught the creature's focus. His charismatic eyes faded into anguish and he held his breath as if you would slowly forget him, which you wish he implied on you at this moment.

Jungkook was a rather charismatic being, so full of life. He told you many things, the beings he encountered, his descendancy and you were absolutely enchanted by it all. Jungkook went from being the eye that captured you to the person you needed the most. So much had happened that the dangers you encountered soon became normalised. He wasn’t a god nor was he human, he was a demigod.

And you can recall the very moment he told you…..

“You know, I’ve known you for a while now. Yet, you still can’t give me a direct answer as to what you are? Who you are? You know so much about me but I know nothing about you” you asked, it was very true. You often got lost in your rambles that by the time he watched you walk into the night back to your residency, you no longer had time to ask him who he truly was, it was almost like you forgot. Every. Single. Time.

Jungkook stared at his reflection beneath him, toes curling just before the water and he wondered. Was it truly something he wanted you to know, did he no longer honour his people's secrecy, it was as if the water would always be a part of him and just like the tides. He was pulled from his desire to feel ‘normal’, that the other part of him wanted nothing more than to run from the ocean.

“I don’t know what I am either” he spoke, voice tough in correspondence “I’m many things, to many beings. I’m a prince to countless, an heir to others. A beast of life to some, but to you and your people, I am a demigod. A halfling cursed with humanity, I’m telling you this because as we’ve ventured, I’ve given you my trust and you’ve done nothing to betray it” Jungkook's voice was soft, as always. His curious gaze lifted from beneath his fallen hairs, strayed from their roots and moved like silk from his eyes as the wind touched his bristles.

Your bottom lip curled between your teeth in thought, it wasn’t hard to believe because at this point in time. This was the least likely to be the most unbelievable.

“If you're a demigod as you say, and your source correlates with the water. Does this mean your father is….poseidon?” came your question, your needy eyes now meet by his doe ones. His brows furrowed in response as if it was hard for him to communicate.

With his intense gaze, he nodded, ever so slowly. It was a painful nod, one stricken in fear. Jungkooks charisma faded into his clouded mind and you led him astray from his defences. He didn’t enjoy this, his shared vulnerability felt unnatural, it wasn’t the way he was taught. His humanity was often correlated with Beastiality by his people and the emotions that flooded his mind felt so distant to him. It wasn’t like he feared his people, he just feared their intentions with those who they didn’t deem worthy of knowing of them.

“Then why do you seem so human-like, is this my perception of you? Am I meant to know of your existence because if that’s not the answer, must I fear for my life” you asked slowly, making sure every word you spoke made it through to him, your tendency for empathetic traits seemed to come into play and by the looks of it? It seemed sickening to him.

The sun was led astray by the clouds and your moment was soon to end, the lake he visited you was by the ocean. Covered in a deep forest with a subtle pathway of dirt to lead you back home.

Jungkook let a giggle escape his mouth towards your idiocy “You don’t need to fear for your life as long as I’m here. My mother presented herself as a human during the time she met my father, a woman with such beauty had grasped his attention. It’s hard to say why I’m like this because she herself wasn’t a human. My father says it’s because the moment they collided was what I was imaged after but these days I don’t believe much from his mouth” a slight husk to his tone deepened at the mention of his father.

“As long as you're here aye? What are you, my protector? My guardian? Jungkook my saviour” you cooed falling helplessly on his hooded chest to lighten up his dampened mood. The information was enough to suffice your curiosity, just enough to vanquish your questions and you didn’t want to risk his sadness for your rambling mind.

Jungkook lifted a ringed finger, resting it on your head in a comforting motion. Surprising you. You sat awkwardly, legs laid upon each other as you laid on his thighs unintentionally “Protector has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?” He asked, his childish tone was back once more letting the serious resonance fade into the abyss of his mind once more.

“More like Jungkook the fish, when have you once protected me, it’s always me protecting you. Like that time a kid tried throwing water at you and I pushed you out of the way” You continued, feeling the heat of your cheeks fire in adornment, he never held you this intimately. Only a peck to those plush cheeks of yours and a hug, usually you were doing the hugging...

“You didn’t need to, I’m not a mermaid. A tale isn’t going to spontaneously pop out of my ass, you just made us both look like idiots” He laughed, sending you into hysterics “Let me have my saviour moment dammit, in my mind that was quite heroic of me don’t you think” you tried lifting yourself from his thigh but his grasp was too strong, that not even your head moved from his stoned hands.

“Not at all, heroism can’t even be the definition of what you did. Maybe embarrassment? Or, even better. Dumbass?” you shot up from his hand, defying his strength. Planting your hands to his side so your face was merely away from his face “I am not a dumbass, I did what I thought was right at the time, I should have let the water hit you, very very ungrateful if I may say so myself” you didn’t really notice the proximity at first, to fired in your own mind to notice Jungkook's doe eyes widen at the mere feel of your breath heating his cheeks.

Your ramble continued as he gulped, heated in nervousness. His eyes turning a pale blue, covering his chocolate brown eyes with a slight desire but mostly fear of his actions.

“Ah, y/n” he tried but you continued over him “-remember that time your fingers started doing that sticking together thing like a fin and I took my gloves off, mid-winter to cover yours which by the way. You never gave back, I don’t care because you can keep them but living under the water and all, I feel like I should have given them my final wishes at least”

Jungkook coughed, staring into your eyes, placing a soft hand onto your hips in hopes of it grasping your attention “By the way, were you trying to make a mako mermaid reference and I’m only just getting it now because that would make me feel like a dumbass, which I’m not. I’m not implying that you are either because you're smart but you're also a dick” Your words were switching so fast that he panicked and planted a kiss onto your soft plump lips.

Oh, how warm they felt, your eyes widened in shock. Feeling his soft lips move rhythmically against your own, unable to comprehend his movements as you stared at his thick lashes coating his lids, finally sinking into his tender touch.

Jungkooks fairly large hands are planted on your wide hips, his touch so tender in fear of hurting you. Even his kisses lingered on your lips as he struggled to move from their enchantment.

From that moment onwards you both lingered on the thought of it, treating the other more softly. Graciously, he treated you like a porcelain doll in fear of losing you. He always kept one hand clasped to your own, for what he called his mystical rope.

But moments like that also end in tragedy because even if you found love. Your demise soon followed you to your meeting place, in hopes of seeing him by the dock you awaited. Staring dreamily at the moon above you, your eyes playing with the stars surrounding it and your heart warmed at the tranquillity falling before you, everything seemed to be so full of majesty.

You were so lost in a daze that you didn’t notice the feet pandering behind you, a hooded figure stood before you, lips uncovered but eyes hidden in disguise. This moment wouldn’t have scared you, unmatched to yours and Jungkook's odd adventures, still, the knife they had in their hand glistened under the moonlight and that made your heart race scarcely.

“Y/n?” they asked, voice full of femininity.

You nodded, eyes in search of their own. “Lighten up, I’m not here to hurt you” they laughed, removing their hood painfully slowly, revealing a young woman. Mid-fifties with healthy skin and strands falling down her face with the colour of lightning streaks befalling them, her doe eyes and thin brows reminded you of something but as you gazed into her eyes, you felt the fear vanquish.

“Who are you?” you asked, it seemed as if you’d been doing that often nowadays.

The hooded woman sat beside you, her large, golden streaked blanket resting on her slender shoulders fell like a pool surrounding her due to its thickness. It seemed warm on the inside. “I am no one.” she gave, wisely making you roll your eyes “no one? Everybody's someone” you replied, disliking the ungiving answer she so happily gifted you.

Her slender jaw spread as she released a mocking laugh “Darling, some want to be perceived as someone. I am the embodiment of no one, by now I know your shock is an action of acting. I know of your adventures, I know of your discovery. So take me as I am because I may come back in a different form next time around; the concept of matter is how you mould it, when you are matter, you are anything.”

“You are no one” you repeated in hushed whispers, to which she hummed in reply “-yes, I come as a heathing warning for you my dear” her long black hair swished like magic around her but she was so unfathomed by it, by everything. You couldn’t even feel her energy, her being was untraceable, it was almost like she was a concept of unperception “a warning? First, you stand before me with a knife, then you lecture me on matter and now I’m receiving a warning for something I may not have even don-”

“No, not of what you have done. What you’ve meddled in, as you may know. The prince you're waiting for” she was cut off by you immediately “How did you kn-”

“I’m speaking” she demanded, she flicked her slender fingers in the with fast-paced movements, the advancement made your posture straighten and your mouth shut, ziplocked “I heath a fate made warning; A prince will someday meet his demise, secrecy is leaked and unfathomable death may plague all lands unless the loved are sacrificed. Unlike many, whom may not understand that. I come to you in the form he was conceived in, despite never appearing before him. I have come to you, I have deciphered the riddle for your understanding. Jungkook has always been the son of the cursed. Unless you sacrifice yourself for him”

“I know your love for him is prudent and rooted in for all of eternity so I ask you this? Is your love so strong that you're willing to lay down your life and wait for him in the next? Or are you so obsessed with what he is that your love is a manifestation of your unlived fantasies' ' she spoke with such anger, your breathing elevated as the moon disappeared within the clouds and her eyes turned a bright blue with black surroundings. Her hair floated in the air and she once more reversed her curse she placed on you, watching you fall to the floor, coughing from the unused air within your lungs.

“What’s it to you? Yo-you were never there for him. He grew motherless, your sudden support seems awfully unwilling” you screamed, her power raised the winds and the tides grew with it. “You know nothing of magick my dear, scream all you want but what’s set in stone cannot be changed by faith. I protect him from the shadows and nurture him from afar. He doesn’t need me, he’s a prince, a son of a god. He can handle himself.”

She stood, using her power to light up the sky around you in an array of lighting. Strong her movements were, the tips of her fingers swirled as a barricade of wind surrounded you both, blocking the outside world off, the anger rising around you couldn’t be heard from your standing point and your fear suddenly grew. Was what she said true? Were you merely going to be a sacrifice in fate?

“Do you love my son?” she asked, this time. Her hands placed on your cheeks, warming them and disclosing your fear. You didn’t hesitate, nodding your head almost immediately, causing her saddened doe eyes to close, squeezed shut in thought. Her cries kept from her throat and she apologised “I’m so sorry for this.” She whispered. Suddenly, her hands lit and your mind eradicated into an unfathomable pain, but just as it arrived. It also left and instantaneously you felt trapped.

You watched from within your eyes, as she gifted you her golden knife. Placing her soft forehead against your own, whispering sweet nothings until she backed away and looked atop into the sky before slowly disappearing into the air like ash.

“No, no, no” you repeated watching as you unleash a cut on your skin.

It was a quick, swift moment. The knife pierced at your skin and sliced your innocence, it was damn near painful but your mind was so overrun with memories that the pain you inflicted upon yourself felt no less painful than the crack in your heart. It was a damned ending from the beginning but just like most, happy beginnings end horribly because it’s too good to be near true.

You were mortified by what was to come but just like the pain of birth, the pain of new beginnings and the entrance to humanity. Death could mimic its transition and your boat was rocking. But you didn’t regret any of it, you knew the moment he told you of what was to come that this was your sacrifice, your tears watering the board creaking beneath you as the raging waves swindled the currents beneath you, at this point. It no longer felt like you were endangered by anything, your trapped consciousness merged into one and you walked to the edge of the dock.

Rivers of blood trickled down your arms and you cried from within, just a moment ago you awaited your love’s arrival but now you’ve become his only path of living. It was all unfair.

But just like that, your will vanished and you fell. The drop wasn’t too far but you did, your hair sunken into the water, the tides pulling you further beneath its weight and you felt weightless. It felt serene, the suffocation of your lungs was unkempt but then again, you couldn’t feel anything. Not even the siren screamed before you as Jungkook saw your floating body and silken blood dragging from your arms like leashes. The gash inside of your belly was doing its unholy work.

He had you in his arms, strongly wrapped behind your head and your waist as he stared at you, eyes stricken in fear and pain, shooting from the wanted with you in his arms, landing on any near-surface. Using his arms as a shield from your pain, he couldn’t understand the sudden change in environment but he knew of whom when he saw your floating body.

All he saw was red.

The rain began to fall from the sky, masking his hefty tears from his eyes. He couldn’t see your breathing so he reached a hand above your mouth, whispering incantations as his tips felt the water pile, lifting from your purple lips and a cough escaping your mouth.

“Come on, y/n. You can’t do this to me, not now” He cried sullenly, “please” he pleaded, resting a head on your cheek, the once tender warmth released with thin streaks of breathing and ice-cold skin, his cries mimicked the thunder as he rested his hand against your stomach praying to the ocean for strength, he no longer cared about himself because in a world without you, there wasn’t a world of hope. Of adventure, of love. He couldn’t bear the thought and if you left, he would too.

He screamed a growl like one as his hands lit in blue, heavy harshed breaths escape his mouth and his heart patterned. He didn’t care for the wind prickling at his raised hairs, the lightning striking before him because if he could save you, he couldn’t save himself.

“Please, breath baby. Please.” he sobbed.

The wounds barely healed as he leant an air against your chest, unable to hear your lively heart. Breaking him further “Why, why her out of all people. Why not me, out of all people you took the one person willing to love me” He wailed into the sky, falling against your corpse body. His tears falling against your salty face.

“Just five more minutes would have felt like an eternity more if you gave me the chance.”

He curled up beside you in the rain, ignoring the storm happening around him. His arm wrapped around your flat body as he sunk into your neck with loud sobs. His smile broke from him and the strings to his heart no longer played its serene melodies as he saw you, riddled with death.

It was churning, moments ago you awaited his love. His oddly cold warmth he provided and now you laid in the eye of all rage. Your thoughts are alive once more, but faintly. Just like the faint beat of your heart that caught the attention of your lover. His weakened hands pushed his body up and laid an ear against your heart, the strum of your strings beating once more gifted him something more, life couldn’t leave your body just yet.

His tears stuck to your face and the magic within them, secured into your veins and simultaneously he watched your wounds turn into sigils of protection, scarred into your body. Your breathing returned as Jungkook hovered above you, his fin-like hands placed beside your messy strands as he tucked the swindled roots behind your pierced ears, awaiting for your eyes to open once more.

“Am I just that important” you whispered barely, the movement of your lips made him laugh in joy. His breathing heightened as his chest pumped in and out.

He gripped your cheeks making you hiss in pain “shit, sorry” he muttered, still eccentric in glee. Just like the sea, you wanted to continue living so you fought fate. The comfort of your lovers' hands against your stricken features was extremely comforting and just like that, the heavy rain turned into hushed whisps.

“I promise to never leave your side again, never” he promised as he straddled your head within his strong arms.

“Fine by me” you coughed, voice still weakened by the taste of death.

Jungkook laughed, staring into the sky with hatred. One day he would get his revenge but for now, his focus was solely on you, and only you “I should have known better, I’m so sorry” he apologised frantically, you placed a hand on his naked arm, shocked that all this time he wasn’t clothed “It’s okay, Jungkook. It’s not your fault”

“You're wondering if I’m cold, goddamit y/n. You were dying and you're worried about me”

You shoved his head weakly “leave me alone, it’s hard not to worry about someone you love”

Jungkook pecked your cheek, tiredly “I love you too”

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[mostlycompetentwriter]

TMT One-Shot

F/M Pairing: Y/N x 3racha (Stray Kids)

Word Count: 8K

Genre: High School AU

Warnings: Lots of smut and language; mentions of alcohol

Summary: Y/N is the shy, awkward girl who can’t talk to boys while doing her best to exist as a shadow throughout her high school life. Her two brothers, Minho and Felix, are the complete opposite. Minho is the cool, suave music addict who wants to be in his own band one day, while Felix is the stereotypical popular kid whose best friend, Han Jisung, tirelessly trails after his friend’s older sister. However, despite their differences, the three siblings share a very close relationship and Y/N considers them to be her only real friends. 

One day, Minho brings home two classmates from his community college and Y/N realizes, for the very first time, that the sweet taste of desire is highly addictive.

When my mother died, I was only 10-years-old. She slipped away like a ghost, quietly and without notice, and I was left feeling broken on the inside. If I was a therapist, unlike the contemptuous older woman who always spoke to me with a condescending tone, I’d likely attribute the traumatic event to the person I started to become. 

Instead of bouncing back from her death like my brothers Minho and Felix, I started to feel sad all the time. Accordingly, I lost many of the friends I met in Elementary school because I chose to sit quietly in my classes when I didn't feel like talking to anyone else. Likewise, I also declined their invitations to visit their houses or ride with their parents to the movie theaters. Actually, I exchanged those friendships for the solitude of my bedroom at home where I usually spent the evening staring vacantly at the ceiling while trying not to cry anymore.

Yeah, I guess it was kinda my fault.

Overtime, my status evolved from the kind, amiable Y/N who everyone at school admired, to the sullen and despondent weird girl who sometimes spoke to imaginary friends. I spent recesses inside with my teachers, helping them clean the whiteboard. During lunch, I sat alone with my school tray and thought about how my mother used to pack my lunches for me because I complained about the mystery meatloaf....Oh, right, thinking about my mother inevitably made me feel sad again and sometimes I cried at school in front of my classmates. 

Needless to say, my youth wasn’t exactly as voracious as my peers...or even my brothers for that matter. Actually, Minho and Felix were perfectly normal because they mourned our mother’s death for several months before inexplicably moving on as if it had never happened. Thereafter, Minho developed a passion for music and my father allowed him to take guitar and piano lessons after school. Felix started to play sports and he was quite good at baseball despite his smaller stature. Likewise, in between classes, I heard my classmates frequently gossiping about my brothers: mysterious and alluring Minho who all the older girls adored, and popular and beloved Felix who was the envy of our classmates. 

I didn’t mind being considered an outsider in comparison to my brothers because they still treated me like a friend. In fact, my brothers and I were extremely close, especially after our mother’s death. Despite my introverted tendencies, Minho and Felix often went out of their way to include me in their activities. For example, Minho liked to offer his demos as background music for the raunchier parties in our town and he always begged me to come along and hear his new songs. My older brother was so incredibly talented that I rarely refused his offers, finding myself sitting next to Felix in the backseat of Minho’s car while we drove across town to the wealthier districts. I would spend the rest of the night hanging around my brothers while listening to Minho sing about everything from his ex-girlfriends to the pot he liked to smoke with some of the younger guys.

In any case, I could always count on my brothers to liven my spirits, which might explain why I was so uncomfortable when Minho graduated and applied for University. It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing because Minho was only driving thirty minutes everyday to attend his classes and he still lived at home. But it still felt like an unwanted change, and I wasn’t sure how to cope with my brother’s sudden desire to build a studio in the basement of our childhood home while he brought new classmates to fawn over his equipment.

Thankfully, I managed to avoid the unfamiliar faces, and I started spending more time with Felix. Unfortunately, spending time with Felix inevitably forced me to endure the endless pandering from some of his more unsavory acquaintances. For example, when I wanted to play video games one afternoon, I knocked twice on Felix’s door only to find myself in the company of someone who was decidedly the complete opposite of my brother. His name was Han Jisung, and he was Felix’s best friend. “Y/N,” he said quietly, sheepishly attempting to fix the mop on top of his head. “How are you?”

“Fine,” I said, glancing over Jisung’s shoulder. “Where’s Felix?”

“Bathroom,” Jisung said, pointing at the door. 

I groaned. “Are you busy?”

“We’re never too busy for you,” Jisung smirked, but he always flirted with me shamelessly as if he didn’t care that I was Felix’s older sister.

I ignored Jisung when I walked into Felix’s bedroom, finding a relatively clean spot on his bed to wait for his return. In the meantime, Jisung lingered by the doorway, watching me with those ridiculous dark eyes. “I heard Minho made another demo.”

“He’s always making demos,” I replied, wondering why Felix was determined to take his time for once.

“Yeah, but he’s really proud of this one.”

“Minho thinks he’s a genius,” I said. “If you were to ask him, then every song he made would be a masterpiece.”

“Well, he’s the reason why I've started to pursue music.”

“You?” I scoffed, finding the idea of Jisung as a creator of anything other than enormous messes on the kitchen counter to be nothing short of hilarious. “Jisung, you can’t even finish your math homework.”

“That’s not true!” Jisung protested. “It’s just not that interesting, and I like music so it shouldn’t be a problem.”

“You’ll find something else to like in a few months,” I said, watching as he frowned with that ridiculous pout he always wore when he wasn’t getting his way.

“Yeah? Well, when my first mixtape comes out,” Jisung grumbled. 

“I’ll be the first one asking for an autograph,” I teased him, rolling my eyes when he sat next to me and held up his pinky finger.

“Promise?”

“Fine,” I sighed before trying to move further away from Jisung.

He didn’t allow the space for very long, sliding right up against me without any traces of his previous frustrations. “Y/N,” Jisung said, hand reaching out for my shoulder. “There’s a party this Friday.”

“I’m not in the mood for a party,” I said. “I have a lot of homework this weekend, and-”

“Actually, Minho invited us,” Felix interrupted, and I didn’t even realize that my brother had returned. I was also surprised to see Minho behind him, stretching his arms above his head like he had forgotten to sleep again last night.

“You’re going too?” I asked Minho.

“It’s Chan’s party,” Minho explained. “He’s playing some of my demo tracks.”

“Bang Chan,” I repeated, narrowing my eyes because I had heard my brother mention that name dozens of times. Actually, if I didn’t know any better, then I would think Minho had some kind of infatuation with his new college friend.

“I think Minho is in love,” Felix teased, dodging Minho’s playful swing before he joined Jisung and I on the edge of his bed.

“He’s just a friend from one of my lectures,” Minho said. 

“Minho also thinks he’s a genius,” Felix whispered to me, but it was loud enough for our brother to overhear. 

“You like him too,” Minho protested.

“Felix met him?”

“Last week,” Felix beamed. “Minho and I ran into him on the way to get coffee. Your lazy ass was still asleep at 12:00.”

“Shut up,” I grumbled. “I stayed up late to finish an essay.”

“College will kick your ass, Y/N,” Minho said. “If you can’t survive high school literature...”

“I get it,” I groaned. “I don’t want another lecture.”

“Good, but you’re still coming to the party because I want you to meet Chan and hear your brother’s masterpiece.”

“Please stop calling your mixtape a masterpiece.”

“I’ll consider it,” Minho smirked, “as long as I see you at Chan’s house this Friday.”

“This is considered blackmail, Minho,” I sighed. “But fine, I’ll need the time and address, please.”

I stood on the porch in the frigid cold wearing a party dress that might’ve been overkill, and I had a desire to return to my house because nobody was answering the door. Actually, when I really thought about it, this complex was too nice for a college student, unless Chan had discovered Blackbeard’s treasure or something. I snorted at my own joke, waiting impatiently for someone to let me inside because my brothers weren’t responding to my text messages. 

The music sounded faint from behind the door, which made me wonder if Minho had given me the wrong address. It wouldn’t be the first time that my brother gave me some kind of misinformation, but I thought he really wanted me to come tonight and hear his music. “Hello!” I yelled, banging my fist against the door. “Minho? I’m leaving in exactly ten seconds if nobody lets me inside!”

I started the countdown in my head, jumping up and down to warm my muscles, when a sudden expulsion of heat relieved the tension slowly numbing my fingers. “There you are,” Felix said with a drunken smile.

“Isn’t too early for you to be plastered?”

Felix giggled. “They’re playing Minho’s music next.”

“Well, let me inside you asshole,” I said, pushing my way into the house because my brother had clearly forgotten that it was basically snowing outside.

“What do you think?” Felix asked. “It’s pretty nice.”

“I can’t see anything,” I complained, narrowing my eyes since it was difficult to notice the details when the house was packed wall to wall with intoxicated college students. The lights were also dimmed, which meant that walking was an unnecessary chore as Felix took my hand and brought me into the kitchen where he promised Minho was waiting.

At least he wasn’t fully incapable. 

“Y/N,” Minho grinned, tossing an arm around my shoulder as he pulled me closer, allowing me to smell the nasty liquor on his breath.

“Drunk at your mixtape reveal party?”

Minho laughed. “I haven’t had much.”

“Felix has,” I said, grimacing when I spotted my younger brother bouncing from person to person with an unmaintainable energy.

“Let him have fun,” Minho said. “I’m keeping an eye on him.”

“Whatever, but he’s your responsibility in the morning when he’s suffering from a hangover.”

“I’ll handle it,” Minho reassured me. “Anyway, there’s someone I want you to meet.”

“Oh?”

“Chan! Get your ass over here!”

“What a good friend you are,” I remarked, and I was fully prepared to tease my brother further until I realized that Minho was waving down one of the most attractive men I had ever seen.

Chan was absolutely gorgeous, appearing nothing short of debauched under the low-hanging lights of the kitchen. Neatly styled blonde-hair parted down the middle, and bright blue eyes that held the stars inside an endless sea of black. “Are you guys having fun?” he asked with an accent that I couldn’t place.

“The place is fucking awesome, man,” Minho said, wrapping an arm around Chan’s shoulders as he nodded in my direction. “This is my sister,” Minho said with a proud smile. 

“Hello,” I said, cringing at my tone.

“Y/N,” Chan smiled, and I decided that nobody could ever say my name again with such a sexy tenor.

“You have a lovely home,” I said, swallowing hard when Chan leaned in closer. 

“Minho talks about you a lot,” Chan said with a smirk. “Do you want something to drink?”

I nodded without thinking, keeping my eyes trained on his beautiful visage as a beer slipped into my hand. “Pace yourself,” Minho warned me, but I ignored him as I swallowed down the bile-tasting liquid.

“I like her,” Chan nodded, looking at me seductively from over the top of his bottle.

“She’s a bit uptight,” Minho chuckled, and I glared at him because this was not the time to embarrass me. “Are my songs playing next?”

“I’ll make sure everything is ready,” Chan said, giving me one last lingering look.

“Let’s find a good place to hear everything,” Minho suggested, and I followed my brother with thoughts and fantasies consumed by Bang Chan.

Minho’s mixtape was really good, and I begrudgingly congratulated my brother and even allowed him to tell everyone that it was, in fact, a masterpiece. However, while my brother was distracted by a group of younger fan-girls, I slipped away to try and find somewhere peaceful to recover from my headache. It had developed sometime between the pounding bass line of “BEWARE” and the aggressive tone of “Boxer.” 

I paused next to the foyer where there were considerably less people. In fact, only one student lingered next to the open window, and I leaned against the wall as I closed my eyes against the distinct ringing in my ears. Next time, I would wear earplugs when Minho forced me to stand at the speakers.

“You’re not going to pass out, right?”

I blinked several times as the room swam into focus. “I’ll probably make it.”

“There’s a bathroom upstairs,” the rough voice continued, and I finally addressed the hooded figure standing at the window. I realized that he was smoking, holding the bud of the cigarette outside so that the ashes collected somewhere on the porch. “I’m Changbin,” he smirked. 

“Oh,” I cleared my throat. “Do you mind if I share the window?”

He shrugged, tossing his hood back so that I could see the way his black hair fell flat against his head. “Sure.”

I carefully felt my way along the wall until the generous cold breeze was hitting my flushed skin. “Thank god,” I groaned, practically forcing my head outside.

“Drink too much?”

“A combination of that and the music.”

“I heard a rumor that the beer was definitely spiked,” he said, dark eyes looking me over. “You’re obviously new here.”

“I’m with my brother,” I offered cautiously in response to his sudden advances.

“Do I know him?”

“Lee Minho.”

Changbin’s eyes widened. “We’re in the same music composition lecture. I thought he mentioned you in class.”

“He invited me,” I continued, but I didn’t understand why I felt the need to justify myself to him.

“I bet he did,” Changbin nodded. “Why would he hide you from us?”

I shivered. “I’m sure he’ll be back soon.”

“Is that right?” he asked before cornering me against the wall with a hungry gaze. “You hear the song playing?”

I nodded. “It’s loud.”

Changbin chuckled. “I made it.”

I nodded again because that certainly explained the explicit lyrics. “It’s...interesting?”

“Yeah?” Changbin purred. “Do you like it?”

“I do,” I gasped, feeling one of his hands grab me around the waist.

His lips brushed against mine, soft and sensual, while he inhaled deeply. “Y/N, is this your first party?”

“No,” I whispered because it suddenly felt like we were the only two people left in the room.

“I just assumed,” he said. “From the way you’re reacting.”

“W-what?”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that you wanted to go someplace else with me,” Changin said.

I was completely baffled by his assumption, searching for the right words, but they never came. However, the distinct sound of someone clearing their throat forced us apart, and I was surprised to see Chan standing so close. “I guess you’ve met Minho’s little sister,” Chan said and I hated how immature the introduction sounded. 

“She made sure to tell me,” Changbin smirked. “I can’t believe we haven’t met before.”

“He’s looking for her,” Chan continued, and I was confused by the hostility in his tone. “You probably shouldn’t do anything.”

“Wasn’t gonna,” Changbin retorted, planting one of his hands next to my head. “She’s feeling sick. Tell Minho I can take her home.”

“He won’t like that.”

“Oh? Is anyone else sober?”

Chan was quiet for a moment, eyes darting between the two of us. “Wait here.”

“What a good host,” Changbin snarked, but Chan was already walking away and I was starting to feel the effects of my alcoholic consumption darken the edges of my vision.

My brother was nothing short of incoherent, swaying back against Chan as he tried to give me a stern look. “Y/N, I hope you didn’t drink too much.”

“Really?” I snorted. “Isn’t that hypocritical?”

Of course, my admonishment had no effect on Minho. “Chan said that you were feeling sick.”

“It’s just a headache,” I said, although my churning stomach seemed to suggest otherwise.

“I thought I could take Y/N home,” Changbin interrupted. “I guess she could use some fresher air.”

“Sure,” Minho nodded, eyes glassy. “I don’t mind.”

Minho was readily willing to entrust his sister into the care of someone she had just met, and that’s when I knew that he couldn’t be trusted to take me anywhere. “Is that what you want?” Chan asked.

I shrugged because it might be nice to finally escape the endless drumming of Chan’s intricate sound system. “I might be saving myself some trouble.”

“I need more cigarettes,” Changbin said. “I’m running low and I know there’s a store near Minho’s house.

I frowned, but figured that Minho had brought Changbin over to our house before during that brief phase at the start of his college semester when I saw a new face in the basement every week. “I think that’s a good idea.”

“As long as you behave,” Chan warned him quietly, but I never had the opportunity to question him before Changbin was forcing us both outside onto the main porch where the snow was starting to build along the sidewalks.

“This way,” Changbin said, resting one of his hands against my lower back as he guided us down the street.

Changbin’s car was a very old model and the paint was starting to peel from the doors. He helped me inside slowly, reaching for my seat-belt before I slapped his hands out of the way because I could manage to do that by myself. He chuckled at my glare. “Comfortable?”

I nodded in response and waited for him to turn on the ignition before I was savoring the accompanying blast of heat even though it smelled distinctly of ashes. “Minho’s little sister,” Changbin said, eyes focused on the road in front of him. “Are you feeling better?”

“Yeah,” I replied because the growing distance between us and Chan’s party music was actually nice. “I guess the music gave me a headache.”

“That’s how Chan likes it,” Changbin said. “He’s gotten at least a dozen noise complaints from this past month alone.”

“How many parties does he have!”

Changbin smirked. “He likes to keep his house full.”

“It might’ve been too much tonight,” I said, leaning my head against the cold window. “I’ve never seen so many people.”

“Exams,” Changbin said. “When college students feel stressed, they like to get shitfaced.”

“But you’re not drunk.”

“Who said that I was stressed?”

His tone was strangely flirtatious, especially when he looked at me. “You didn’t have to help me, you know?”

“I know, but it was my window we were sharing,” Changbin said. “You looked like you were seconds away from crashing.”

“I can take care of myself,” I replied, even though it was rather harsh to criticize someone who was currently neglecting the speed limit to take my home as quickly as possible. “When did you meet Minho?”

“A few weeks ago,” Changbin said. “We worked on a project together.”

“I guess you’ve already been to my house.”

“Yeah, but I sure as hell don’t remember seeing you.”

“I don’t really like to socialize with most of my brother’s friends.” 

“Well, that explains a lot,” Changbin said, briefly glancing at me. “Are you that type? The unattainable girl next door?”

“I just don’t like people,” I grumbled, but Changbin seemed to think it was funny, laughing at my expense while reaching down to turn on the radio despite the fact that music had caused my headache in the first place.

Of course, I didn’t want to be that type, so I endured his self-promotion, listening to his gravelly voice suspend the entire car into some kind of hip-hip haven. He talked his way through the introductions of every song on his mixtapes, bragging about his compositions and arrangements. “It’s all about authenticity,” he explained when we finally pulled into my driveway.

“Is that so?” I sighed, frowning when I realized Felix had forgotten to turn on the front porch light.

“I guess I should wait until you’re inside,” Changbin chuckled.

“Thanks,” I said, reaching out for the door handle.

“Woah! Baby, where are you going?” Changbin asked, and I quickly returned my hands to my lap. “Are you trying to get away from me?”

“No,” I shook my head, breathing heavily when he reached for my thigh.

“You probably don’t hear this a lot,” Changbin continued. “But you’re really sexy.”

I startled at his words. “Thank you?”

“I mean it, Y/N,” he continued, fingers inching along my thigh like it was free real estate. “Thank god you wanted to share my window.”

I shook my head rapidly when he turned off the ignition, navigating the waistband of his panties to drag his hand against my sensitive core. “What are you doing?” I whispered.

“I’m trying to make you feel good,” he said. “Do you want me to?”

I nodded this time, waiting with my fists balled against the leather seats while he penetrated the soft walls of my core, moving in and out slowly to help me adjust to his fingers. I tried to relax, dropping my shoulders and controlling the way I was panting in desperation for more of the addicting feeling he was creating in my lower abdomen. It all felt entirely scandalous, feeling the way his fingers dragged across my insides, curling against the most responsive parts and watching me with an intensity that I could barely tolerate. I was moaning for him, calling his name softly because he was starting to increase his movements, and I focused on the way his wrist reappeared from underneath my skirt before losing itself in a sea of denim fabric.

“It’s wet,” he remarked, and the sounds of his penetration were growing louder, intermingling with my rapid breaths and the dark tone of his voice. “I can feel it.”

I knew what he meant because my entire body was pulsing in time to the pace in which he played with me. It was like I was his personal experiment, testing how I reacted to certain touches, especially when he crooked his fingers and a moan would displace the temporary quiet. “Changbin,” I whined, reaching for his arm because everything was starting to feel overwhelming.

“I got you,” he said. “You’ve been so good for me, Y/N, I’m not gonna stop until you cum.”

I orgasmed at his filthy words, falling down from the place he sent me and into a deep headspace. He pulled his fingers back, holding them up so that I could clearly see the evidence of my release in the faint light from the street lamp outside. “You didn’t expect that,” Changbin said calmly, reaching for a tissue from the backseat while I tried to figure out what just happened. “I don’t really care who your brother is,” he continued, moving in close. “I think we should fuck next time.” 

“Changbin,” I said, “if Minho finds out-”

“Why are you always worried about him?”

“He’s my brother!”

“Oh? Well, in that case, since you want to be good for your older brother,” Changbin smirked. “I guess I’ll have to find a different way to see you again.”

The next morning, I took a shower because I could still feel traces of Changbin’s touches between my thighs. The water was hot, fogging up the mirrors and making it difficult to breathe. It was necessary because I could function better when I re-emerged with fresh clothes and a sudden hunger for those little chocolate muffins my mom bought at the store.

I walked downstairs, noticing Felix and Jisung both sitting at the counter while they talked over their breakfast. Felix noticed me first, watching as I grabbed a leftover pastry from the fridge before leaning back against the cabinets. “Did you have fun last night?” he asked.

I narrowed my eyes, but then I realized that his question was innocent because he definitely didn’t know about Changbin. “It was nice.”

“What are you doing today?”

“I don’t know,” I shrugged. “I haven’t made plans.”

“You can hang out with me and Jisung today,” Felix suggested. “We’re just going for coffee.”

Jisung met my gaze from over the table and he quickly looked away as if he wasn’t expecting the contact. “Yeah,” I nodded. “I could use some coffee.”

It wasn’t often that I accompanied Felix and Jisung when they decided to actually leave the house and my brother’s massive collection of video games. Felix was never the problem, but I could only endure so much of Jisung’s flirtations before I inevitably made another pointless vow to try and ignore him. It was an impossible promise to keep since Felix was practically glued to his hip, and I can’t remember the last time Jisung actually spent the night at his own home.

However, coffee was nice and the taste was bile so it sat heavy on my tongue and provided a good distraction, even if that meant listening to my brother and Felix talk about the party. “I met Chan,” Jisung said. “He was really cool.”

Felix nodded, eyeing his coffee with obvious distaste. “Minho seems to like him.”

“He introduced me to his partner, Changbin,” Jisung continued and I fidgeted nervously at the mention of his name. “Apparently, they do a lot of work together.”

“I’ve heard their stuff,” Felix said, finally pushing away his coffee cup in exchange for his orange juice. “I think they’re really talented.”

“It’s like you’re meeting real professionals,” Jisung gushed and I rolled my eyes. “I let them listen to one of my demos,” Jisung chuckled. “I think they want to work together.”

“Really?” Felix gasped. “That’s amazing!”

“I guess they need another partner,” I remarked, shivering when I thought about my encounter with Changbin from the previous evening.

“You can always come with me to the studio tomorrow,” Jisung said. “If you want.”

The idea of being alone with Jisung wasn’t exactly high on my list of priorities. “I don’t know...”

“Changbin will be there too,” Jisung added. “Minho said he really thought you were cool at the party.”

“I bet he did,” I grumbled.

“Why are you inviting her instead of your best friend?” Felix pouted.

“You said you needed to work on a project,” Jisung reminded him. “Actually, you made me swear to keep away distractions!”

“Alright, fine,” Felix sighed. “You’re right, but that doesn’t mean that I’m okay with it.”

Jisung ignored my brother’s sullen expression. “Y/N? Do you want to come?”

“I guess,” I said, and I had no idea what possessed me to agree with his request until it was too late.

The next morning, I met Jisung outside of the address he had sent to my phone with several rather inappropriate emojis. I made sure to scold him for the messages, but he was far too excited, ignoring my complaints when he started talking about the new project he was working on with Chan and Changbin. “Come on,” he said, holding open the door as I walked inside the tiny lobby of the simple two-story building. “We’re on the top floor,” Jisung smirked as if that was something to brag about considering the condition of the worn-down warehouse they were using as a studio.

However, I knew that he was excited, so I feigned a smile as he continued talking about the building’s intricate history while we walked up the staircase to pause outside of a studio room. “Is this it?” I asked.

He nodded, reaching for the door handle. “They should be inside.”

True to his word, Chan and Changbin were standing together in front of a large computer monitor, turning around when they heard me and Jisung enter the room together. “There you are,” Chan said, but his gaze was strangely focused on me.

“We have some stuff for you to hear,” Changbin said, stretching his arms above his head. “I need some coffee first.”

“There’s a gas station down the road,” Jisung said. “I’ll go with you?”

Changbin looked at me for a moment before agreeing to Jisung’s proposal. “We’ll have plenty of time to work when we get back.”

“You’re in for a surprise, Jisung,” Chan said. “Actually, while the two of you are gone, maybe Y/N could look at some of the tracks?”

“Really?” I asked, surprised that he would be so willing to share, but he was already dragging me down into the desk chair, pulling me closer to the monitor.

“You can take you time and browse,” he said, joining Jisung and Changbin at the door.

They started talking about something else, but I was too busy admiring the vast number of tracks listened in sequential order on Chan’s computer. Despite how I might feel about Changbin, it was impossible to deny that their work was impressive, spreading across years of effort. It felt like I was being allowed an intimate glimpse of the artists who were growing more popular everyday.

“Try to be back in twenty minutes,” Chan said, and I watched Jisung and Changbin leave together, whispering in low tones while Chan shut the door behind them. “Your music is really good,” I said, scrolling through the library of his songs. It only made him that much more appealing when I could see the evidence of his passion.

“Are we going to stop playing games, Y/N?”

I frowned at his question, turning around in the chair. “What do you mean?”

Chan smirked, and I realized that it wasn’t playful. “Do you have any idea how fucking gorgeous you are?” he asked.

“Chan...” I trailed off, frozen in place while he slowly leered in my direction, taking several, meaningful steps before he was bracing himself on either side of the desk behind me. 

“Changbin told me about what happened in the car.”

I swallowed hard. “W-what?”

“Is that all it takes? A couple of fingers to satisfy you?”

“Chan, I don’t understand,” I tried, gasping when he picked me up out of the chair, legs wrapping around his waist automatically before he sat me down on the desk.

“Do you want it again?” Chan asked, running his hands alongside my waist before crawling his finger across the bare skin of my thighs, disregarding the thin barrier of my skirt. I felt him press the palm of his hand against my wet heat, fingers testing the edges of my panties. “I can make you feel good.”

The sensation was too much, and I found myself nodding without really thinking about the consequences. “Please.”

His fingers were suddenly penetrating my delicate walls, sliding in and out at a vicious pace that left me aching for something more. “Tell me, Y/N,” Chan demanded, using his thumb to circle my throbbing clitoris. “How does it feel?”

“I want it, Chan,” I moaned, bracing my hands against his firm chest as he continued to pleasure me. Unlike Changbin, I could tell that Chan was determined to make me cum as soon as possible, twisting his hand and jamming his fingers like he was aiming to make me lose my mind. I practically fell against him crying, riding out the waves of my high, while he ignored my whimpers when everything was suddenly feeling overstimulated.

“Come here,” he said, pulling out his fingers before falling against his chair and patting his thighs.

My legs were shaking when Chan helped me onto his lap and I moaned when his fingers crooked against my walls again. “Do you want my cock?” he asked and I nodded viciously, sending strands of my hair flying in all directions. “What a good girl,” he snarled, ripping his fingers away and leaving me whining around the empty space he left behind.

“Chan,” I groaned, resting my head against his shoulder while I watched him make a show out of undoing the belt around his waist, unzipping his skinny jeans before shoving the material down his thighs. His erection strained the silky material of his boxer shorts, and I was practically salivating.

He reached down to rub himself through his shorts, outlining his cock in a way that made me realize that I wasn’t going to leave this studio without an obvious limp. “Y/N,” he said. “Take off your skirt for me.”

I whined, but obeyed him instantly, bracing one hand against his shoulder while the other practically ripped the fine material of the pretty skirt down my legs and into the studio floor. Chan’s eyes darkened, grabbing my waist between his hands to grind the front of my soaked panties against his erection. “Please,” I cried, wanting nothing more than to take matters into my own hands, but Chan’s grip was impossible to break.

“I’m going to fuck this little pussy,” Chan growled. “Can you last long enough for me to come inside?”

“Yes,” I whined, stuttering around a broken sob when he pulled his cock into the studio light, stretching my panties to the side before sinking deep inside my pulsing heat.

“That’s right,” Chan said, eyes closed. “You feel so good.”

“Chan,” I moaned, eye widening when the stretch felt impossible, like he was splitting me open even when common sense told me that it was just my body accommodating to his cock.

His hips slammed into mine, and I could barely reciprocate when he easily overpowered my attempts to meet him somewhere between our bodies. Instead, he took control and I let him have it because he knew exactly what to do before sending me over the edge again, ignoring my cries when he continued to chase his own high, grunting against my ear when he came inside.

“Y/N,” he sighed, keeping me in place despite the fact that his cock was completely flaccid. “Such a good girl.”

I was incoherent and incapable of offering a response in return. Instead, I buried my face into the side of his neck, smelling the scent of his cologne mixed with sweat and the sex polluting the air around us. His body was firm and warm, and I closed my eyes because everything felt like an incredibly lucid dream.

I was still exhausted from the previous afternoon, unable to walk much further than from my bedroom to the living room before the painful reminder of my unexpected session with Chan started to ache between my legs. There was a movie playing on the television, but I was only somewhat focused on the lazy plot and characters. Instead, I was thinking about my interactions with Chan and Changbin, wondering if the two men were playing some sort of mind game with me.

I only managed to tear myself away from those thoughts when I saw Minho as he walked down the stairs with Felix and Jisung talking about something to do with a sports competition. “There you are!” Felix exclaimed. “We were just talking about your visit to the studio with Jisung.”

“I heard you got a tour,” Minho said. “That was nice of them.”

“Yeah,” I agree because there was a lot more to talk about besides the tour of the dilapidated studio.

“I haven’t had a chance to visit,” Minho said. “But they said I could record my new demo there.”

“Another one!” Felix gasped, looking at my brother with wide eyes. “You’re a fucking genius, man.”

“Oh, I know,” Minho smirked. “Actually, I can show you before my first lecture,” Minho said, starting in the direction of his bedroom.

Jisung watched Felix trail behind Minho before he joined me on the couch. “What did you think of the studio?”

I swallowed hard. “It was fine.”

“I think it’s really nice,” Jisung said. “Chan said something making us a permanent trio! He even gave us a name and everything!”

“Oh?”

“3racha,” Jisung giggled. “It’s like a pun-”

“Yeah, I get it,” I sighed impatiently. “I’m trying to watch the movie.”

Jisung was undeterred by the sharp comment, and he buried himself further into the cushions before turning his attention back to the screen.

“Our first show is tomorrow, Y/N,” Jisung giggled, and I finally turned to look at him. “I hope you can watch?”

“Where?”

“It’s a club somewhere downtown. I can send you the address? I know that Chan and Changbin were both insisting that you come.”

“I’m sure they were,” I grumbled, but Jisung was more interested in talking about his contributions to the album. 

“It would mean a lot to me,” he managed after thoroughly explaining their newest concept. “You don’t even have to stay for the whole show.”

“I don’t know...”

“Minho and Felix are coming!” he quickly added, and I wondered if he knew that I would feel more comfortable with my brothers around.

“Okay,” I finally relented, groaning when he started jumping up and down on the couch like an overzealous puppy.

I rode to the club with Minho and Felix who were excitedly chattering about the impending concert while I looked out the window despondently. It felt like a huge risk to show up to the concert considering the recent events concerning my meetings with Chan and Changbin. However, I didn’t want my brothers to be suspicious, so I reluctantly followed them inside where we squeezed together around one of the tables in the middle of an enormous crowd.

The atmosphere was euphoric, draped in a haze of alcohol and the flashing neon lights decorating the stage. It was actually quite civil considering the fact that we were moments away from listening to loud music full of pounding bass and fast rapping. I was half-way convinced that the other guests had no idea what they were actually getting themselves into by coming here tonight.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” an annoucement blared overheard, “please welcome, 3racha!”

The audience started clapping while a familiar melody began softly playing, and the fans around me started to cheer for the three shadowy figures who had suddenly walked onto the stage. “Let’s go!” Chan shouted, beginning his verse of the song which I now recognized as one of the tracks they had played for me at the studio. They were all wearing black, matching the tone and vibe of their music, playing through each track with an infectious energy. However, I was still unnerved because I noticed that they all managed to look at me at some point, even though the crowd, and I was starting to feel hot all over my entire body.

“They’re really good,” Felix remarked, and I nodded in return even though I was finding the table much more interesting.

“Thank you, 3racha!” an overhead announcement said and the audience were rising to their feet in synchrony to offer the artists a round of applause for their stage.

“Jisung sounded amazing!” Felix said as if he couldn’t resist the opportunity to brag about his friend.

“Maybe we can meet them backstage,” Minho suggested, and I halfheartedly protested when my brothers forced me to accompany them.

Subsequently, Minho forced Felix and I to wait by the stage for his friends because he was convinced that I really didn’t have an important project to complete before tomorrow. “You never do anything last minute, Y/N,” he said, smiling when he spotted Chan’s messy hair from the middle of the crowd.

“Hey!” Chan greeted him, accepting Minho’s failed attempt at a cool handshake. Changbin and Jisung followed him, and I couldn’t help but notice how the youngest had started to stumble on his feet. 

“You guys did great,” Minho said, talking extensively about his favorite performance while a sudden bombardment of alcohol hit my senses.

I instantly recoiled, covering my nose when the smell grew stronger. “How much did you drink, Jisung?”

“Not much,” the younger boy slurred, and I noticed that his eyes were distant.

“I’ll grab us more drinks,” Changbin said, giving me a familiar dark look before disappearing into the surrounding crowd.

“He’ll be fine,” Felix said, tossing an arm around Jisung’s shoulder. “You deserve to celebrate tonight, man!”

I tugged on Minho’s sleeve to catch his attention, unwittingly drawing Chan’s gaze at the same time. “I think he’s drunk.”

Minho sighed, ready to launch into one of his world-famous lectures, when he was interrupted by the DJ onstage who confronted Chan. “Hey! We couldn’t find you after the show.”

Chan rolled his eyes. “I was out here the entire time.”

“Well, you need to pick up your CD backstage,” the DJ said. “The owners will throw it out tomorrow.”

“I’ll be right there,” Chan grumbled while glaring at the DJ.

“Now,” the man growled and Chan quietly excused himself with a brittle tone. Meanwhile, I had to help Felix with Jisung because his friend was starting to sway dangerously back and forth.

“He needs to go home,” I sighed, watching as Jisung leaned more of his weight against a much smaller Felix.

“I’d take him, but I already had two beers,” Minho said, looking at Felix expectantly.

“Me!” Felix whined. “But I want to stay.”

“He’s your friend,” I glowered.

“Alright,” Minho groaned. “Y/N, you haven’t had anything to drink and you’re way more responsible than Felix.”

It was easy to meet Minho’s stern gaze since this was the perfect opportunity to finally leave the club. “Fine, I’ll take Jisung home.”

“Then it’s settled,” he agreed, tossing me his spare set of car keys. “Take him to our place.”

“Okay,” I said, groaning when Felix helped Jisung wrap his arms around my shoulders and waist. The additional weight was burdensome, and I cursed Jisung under my breath as I helped him through the club to where the bouncer waited at the exit. “I’ll never let you forget this,” I hissed, waiting for the bouncer to open the door while I took one last look over my shoulder to check on my brothers. Instead, I found myself looking directly into Changbin’s dark eyes as he waited by the bar, a familiar smirk making him appear even more dangerous. I shivered in response before I slowly shuffled to the car with Jisung practically breathing down my neck.

When I finally managed to accompany Jisung inside my house, I unceremoniously deposited him on the couch, ignoring the way he groaned in complaint. “I’ll find you some medicine,” I said, searching through one of the side tables.

“It hurts,” Jisung whined, and I rolled my eyes after shoving a bottle of Aspirin in his direction.

“Remember that when you decide to be stupid again.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, dropping two pills into his hand before swallowing them eagerly.

I grimaced as I sat down next to him. “When did you start drinking?”

“Before the show,” Jisung said. “Changbin said it would help take the edge off.”

“Yeah? Do me a favor and don’t listen to him anymore,” I said, frowning when Jisung curled closer to my side. “What are you doing?”

“Tired,” he said, looking up at me with a smile. “You look beautiful.”

I scoffed, trying to push him away, but alcohol apparently made him bolder because he was suddenly twisting one leg around my hip to hold himself in place. “Jisung, you need to stop,” I said, gasping when he brought his lips against mine, kissing me with skill and a surprising amount of tongue. “We can’t do this!”

“Please,” Jisung whined, grinding his hips against my legs. “Just one night, Y/N?”

“Your drunk,” I said, which was only one of a dozen problems with the scenarios currently playing out right in front of my very eyes.

“I’m sober,” Jisung promised, frantically chasing my lips with eager kisses.

It was nothing short of desire, the way he was looking at me, while I watched our clothes end up in a pile around the couch as Jisung fumbled with the condom before I helped him roll it onto his erection. He groaned at the contact, and I moved my hand up and down his cock a few more times before directing him between my legs. Jisung slid inside with a messy exhale, and his arms trembled as they supported his body looming over mine with his delicate frame.

It was a pleasant contradiction because Chan’s thrusts had been nothing short of confident while Jisung’s inexperience showed in the frantic way his hips stuttered against mine. He tried to move faster, losing his previous rhythm, and his cock fell all the way out, erection sliding between my thighs instead. He whined pathetically, rutting against my legs for several moments before he re-adjusted himself deep inside. “Y/N,” he moaned.

“It’s okay,” I told him, petting my fingers along the crown of his head. “You’re doing so good.”

“I like you so much,” Jisung replied earnestly and my heart ached at his words.

He looked unbelievably sinful, eclipsing my body against his as I felt the fabric of the couch against my skin. The friction was delicious, and I focused on the way his cock felt, thrusts growing more and more assured as he finally found a way to please us both, thumb brushing across my clitoris. He was still kissing me, tongue moving across mine deliberately, and I was breathing harshly as I fought to control the rising heat building in my abdomen. It was an intense build-up to an orgasm that I could’ve never anticipated since Jisung was always Felix’s friend who I usually avoided. The same Jisung whose endless flirtations usually annoyed me, but something had changed the moment I looked into his eyes and saw the lust and desire coming together to create an intoxicating mixture.

It was suddenly impossible to ignore the way he made me feel and I felt him come deep inside with a stuttered moan. His hips moved harshly against mine, and I chased my release with a sensual grind of my hips until I was throwing my head back with a cry, groaning when his lips found the sensitive skin of my neck. “Jisung,” I murmured, watching him through a haze of darkness as he rolled over next to me with a moan.

I studied the way Jisung’s hair fanned out across the cushions, making him look angelic beneath the influence of the moon’s light breaking the barrier of the  curtains. It made me feel guilty, realizing that I had finally returned Jisung’s feelings only after my tumultuous affairs with Changbin and Chan. In fact, I was nothing more than the very girls I often mocked when they threw themselves at the most popular boys in school. I swallowed hard at the realization. “What have I done?”

#stray kids #stray kids fanfic #skz #skz fanfic #seo changbin fanfic #bang chan fanfic #han jisung fanfic #stray kids smut #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz smut #changbin smut #han jisung smut #bang chan smut

[cooloddball]

Hi I went through few cons and I actually got my heart broken a little bit. Every one of them had Jensen denying the idea of Destiel or Dean being anything but the American male fantasy.

Vancon 2012 J2 panel he avoids the fan who is screaming Destiel. I understand that because he was going through something Misha shaped during 2012. Destiel was the last thing he wanted in his life then.

The controversial NJCon 2013 where he pretty much rudely avoids the Bi Dean question. I mean come on there were so many ways to back down there but just giving into that crowd like that and shooting down that girl who asked the question? I know she actually explained what happened there but he is saying things to convey he is unhappy where that question is heading. JP who is considered the immature even is considering answering the question the girl is continuously apologising it is a horror show there while Jensen is just being plain rude.

Jib 2014 solo panel where he is asked if Dean will ever get his pie. And he denies Cas ever being there at the end of the line. And ironically at the end, he was only there with all kinds of pie but no Cas. Amazing how life worked out for him.

Jib 2015 solo panel where he again denies both CasDean and Destiel from Fan Fiction episode. JPad was not there and Jensen was in a bad mood so maybe it had something to do with that.

Chicon 2016 he again invalidates Cas when a question is asked about him Cas and Mary.

TorCon 2016 where both Js are denying Cas's importance saying there's no necessity for him.

JaxCon 2017 he pretty much shoots down Destiel by saying Destiel doesn't exist.

In JaxCon 2018 he wrote NO infront of Bi Dean research paper a fan showed him.

Jibcon 2019 he asks audience Where does Destiel exist. but I think he was much like teasing the audience there tbh. No major harm but it still hurts.

I just.. I truly believe he knows what he and Misha were doing in the Destiel implied scenes. And now the cat is pretty much out of the bag. But still Jensen is pretty much staying on his ground and it is nice he is now more open for interpretation but the strength this fandom should have to forgive him for all he did...

I believe in Karma. I think Karma got to Jensen eventually for all hurt he did by those words to the fandom. I don't hate Jensen in fact I really adore the guy. But it doesn't mean I am not upset by his words. How I think Karma worked here is that he never embraced what he was portraying as a character and Karma finally said "Okay Dude enough foreplay.. You want pie okay here's pie and your car now die and be in heaven and your character arc is in garbage but your brother gets to live. There goes your male fantasy.."

I understand if he had internalized sexuality issues of himself that he didn't feel like exposing by talking about Dean and Destiel but still there are much better ways to shoot down fan opinions without being so rude.

In 2014 he pretty much says that at the end of the series Dean might get all kinds of pie with no Castiel and...Geez Is it not what exactly happened? No Cas and Pie on his face. Accidental foreshadowing spoilers..

I think he got Karma for hurting so many fan hearts and denying something he evidently portrayed in his character. At the end he didn't get a happy ending he got robbed by his own show. While the shippers actually got something out of it Thanks to Misha.

I don't need Jensen to embrace Destiel in an open hug because not in any universe that's gonna happen. I actually hoped he would eventually be open to it. He actually might be, considering his reaction to episode 18. But there's no proof actually footage of him saying anything positive about Destiel. It just... is such a bummer.

I know Jensen is hurt for his own reasons by his own show which actually hurt him in ways no fan ever did. I hope he understands how fans feel now being betrayed by a show they love.

May be he had the Karma coming..

Wow. I-

Hmm. This was super long and I read each and every word of it. However, I feel like maybe you are a Jensen anti. Maybe you are not but that's the vibe I got as I read all this.

First of all I am a Dean girl since the pilot. I love Dean. I watched the show because of Dean. Even before I knew about Destiel, I loved Dean. When Cas showed up, I still loved Dean and to me, Cas was a part of Dean somehow, it just always felt that way.

Secondly. I love Jensen and Misha. I know some people don't like Jensen because of Destiel but I like him and I know he has said something's about the topic but truth is, I get why he did that.

Thirdly, I don't think Karma has anything to do with Dean's death. What they did to Dean was fucked up. Jensen doesn't write the show or control the direction that the show went. That is up to the network, the producers and the writers. Period. So, No. Karma had nothing to do with Dean's end. Jensen protested a lot about the ending. We all know why they did it. It's been talked about x10000000000.

Lastly, on the issue of Jensen and Destiel.

Jensen has on numerous occassions that he doesn't think Cas feels things the way human beings feel things. I believe Dean was on love with Cas but he wasn't sure whether Cas felt the same way because he's an angel.

Bi Dean. Not to discredit anyone but the notion that Jensen would deny that Dean was bi because of his own sexuality crisis irl feels like an insult to Jensen as an actor. I saw once an anti Cas/Misha person say that the way Dean hugged Cas in 12x09 was because Jensen hates Misha. Make it make sense. That is an insult to Jensen. There are directors and writers involved. Jensen doesn't get to decide how he wants to hug Cas or Sam. Yes, they have a right of input sometimes but it is very rarely. And thinking personal feelings would affect his acting or portrayal of Dean is truly a moot point. There are so many actors with feuds irl but when they are performing you would never know. Please let's not insult Jensen like that. He deserves an Emmy for playing Dean so well all these years.

Jensen denied Destiel and Bi Dean because it was never explicitly said he actually was bi or was in love with Cas. However, it is there in subtext. I could list all those instances but I'm guessing you already know all those instances from your research on various cons as indicated in the ask. I believe Jensen knew how he played Dean as bi and as in love with Cas. However, if he said "Yeah, Dean is bi and is in love with cas" then the show doesn't explicitly confirm it, then what. You would all start call him a liar and a panderer like many have called Misha. So he just said what was there. Do you remember Metatron's monologue in s9? What makes a story great, is it the text or the subtext? To me, it's both. To others it's the text while for others it's the subtext.

The network and producers. These are I believe the people who decide what the fans want and how to make money from the show. So if they believe textually confirming Destiel canon or bi Dean would've lined their pockets they would've done it. If watched the show, s12 was pretty gay. It's the gayest of all seasons followed by s15.

Anyway, I have a feeling that you might be an anti destiel or anti Jensen person trying to pose as destiel shipper. I honestly don't know. All I can tell you is that I am a Jensen Ackles apologist and I believe he did as much as the network would let him in terms of letting us see that Dean was in love with Cas.

12x23, 13x01-13x06,15x03,15x09,15x18. There's so much but I am neither a destiel meta writer or a film/tv critic so there's not much I can say. But please Jensen is a good man and I think people asking him over and over again about Destiel when he knew he couldn't give them the answers they wanted got to him and he had to shut it down. Maybe sometimes he was rude but he's only human.

#asks #anon #i don't know how else to answer this #i also haven't watched anybof those panels nonnie is talking about save for jib10 #discord about destiel #stop hating jensen he's a good bean #no karma wasn't involved in this

[halothenthehorns]

TLTNL- SEEN AND UNFORSEEN

Sirius easily caught the book and began thumbing through pages, muttering this would have been far easier if his twat of a friend would just hand it to him rather than losing his place every time. James ignored this and went to retrieve his son from Remus, quickly stepping out to change his diaper in the slight delay and then nestling back next to his wife with their child between them as Sirius started with residual triumph for Harry's finally able to speak out like he did.

Luna said that Harry might have to wait for the next issue for his article to be published, as her daddy was expecting an expose on the Crumple-Horned Snorkack.

"It's good to know I'm not everybody's top priority," Harry said indulgently. He may have a good feeling about that paper, but he still wasn't sure how much good it would do, so best to put it out of his mind for now.

The whole experience hadn't been easy for Harry, as Rita had demanded every detail Harry could remember.

Lily huffed in agitation that vile woman was pressing her son for those details, hating the irony that Skeeter had finally gotten her exclusive article she'd always wanted, but at least happy enough Harry was on board with this one.

Knowing this was his chance to speak out, he'd given everything he was asked, but still wondered if anyone would believe it. Yet the breakout of Azkaban left Harry with a burning desire to do something!

At dinner, Dean overheard what Harry would be doing and said he couldn't wait to see what Umbridge would do when she found out. Seamus was on his friends other side and apparently ignoring them, but Harry could tell he was listening.

"Guess it's better than calling you a nutter again," James frowned at this continuation, clearly the Death Eater breakout hadn't been good enough to push someone who should know Harry on some level back into reason.

  Neville agreed it was the right thing to do, people should be made aware Voldemort was out there, what his Death Eaters could do. Harry caught Seamus' eyes, but the other quickly looked back down at his plate.

"You think Dean's secretly helping Seamus with all the spells he's learning from the DA?" James asked.

"Well I'm sure Dean hasn't exactly told where he's learned them from," Sirius reminded of Hermione's little spell with a proud smirk, "but I wouldn't be surprised either."

His dorm mates left not much later, but Harry stuck around waiting for Ron's Quidditch practice to be over.

Remus let out a low whistle of surprise for such a long running practice, his two friends looking far more disappointed they hadn't gotten to hear about that instead of two-thirds of that Hogsmeade visit.

Cho was spotted first, coming in with her friend Marietta. Hermione saw this and asked why he'd shown up so early before without her?

"At least Hermione can talk you through it," Lily told him, glad that her son had seemed to follow their commentary well enough, but it would still be even better if someone had explained this to him in his time.

"I'd rather just never speak of it again," Harry grumbled.

Harry stated it was a complete fiasco.

"Well I'm glad you're chatting with her about this," James smirked, "far more than I ever got, you've now experienced Sirius' advice first hand."

"Hey!" Sirius yelped, "it's not my fault the woman's the most stubborn creature at school." Sirius clearly repeated an old statement.

Lily raised a brow at him, before looking at a suddenly uncomfortable James, and asked, "exactly how many of your blasted attempts were of his doing?"

James had the grace to fail to answer that, Remus was laughing too hard to answer, and Sirius kept going loudly so he wouldn't have to.

He explained the whole instance, ending with her storming out, and asked of her what on earth had been going on?

Hermione told Harry he was tactless.

"Hey!" Harry spluttered, now much preferring his mum's words.

Lily was still watching James critically, and he was happily ignoring her look by playing with his son's fingers.

Harry was outraged that was her conclusion. They'd been having a nice chat until she'd brought up Roger Davies, and then it had all gotten out of hand.

Hermione began to patiently explain as if to an over-emotional toddler,

All three boys got a chuckle out of that, though none of this was improving Harry's mood at the lot of them ganging up on him in past and present.

that he shouldn't have mentioned her halfway through his date.

Harry spluttered in protest Hermione had asked him to, how was he supposed to bring Cho along without telling her?

Hermione said he should have phrased it differently, still with that maddeningly patient air.

Lily was smothering her own laughter now, finally distracted from eyeing James. Hermione, with her two male best friends, should know better than anyone what if felt like to explain these things to them.

He should have made it seem like a drag Harry had to do this, he'd much rather spend all his time with Cho, but Hermione really had made him swear so he now had an obligation and to really make her feel as if she was more important by pleading with her to come along. It would have helped if he'd also mentioned how ugly Harry found Hermione.

"That is so unnecessary," Remus stated as he eyed Lily, "I'm sure she'd find it just as insulting his pandering to her need."

Lily just shrugged. She wasn't going to try speaking for Cho. She was privy to knowing what Harry had meant and so understood her son's position better than Cho likely had. Plus she'd never had much insecurity in the man in her life, he'd never been secretive about his intentions. Yet at the same time, it was clear she was the only one in here who understood why Hermione had said it that way, it would have helped soothe Cho more than what Harry actually did.

Harry's only response to that was to say he didn't find Hermione ugly.

"At least I could have told you that wouldn't have been helpful in the face of Cho," Sirius offered.

"Thank you Padfoot, I think I could have worked that one out," Harry rolled his eyes.

Hermione just laughed, saying he was as bad as Ron, or perhaps not she amended with a sigh,

All five of them couldn't help a soft snort of amusement at Hermione suffering her own plight of love.

as Ron himself came stomping into the Hall splattered with mud and looking grumpy.

"I'm guessing practice didn't go well," Remus said conversationally.

"I still can't imagine coming away from a practice in such a bad mood," James stated, his tone enough to state the idea was lost on him. "Quidditch is how you relieve stress."

Hermione continued explaining for Harry that Cho was trying to make him jealous after he'd bought Hermione up, it was her way of seeing who Harry liked more.

Harry protested why couldn't she have just said that? Ron clearly wasn't joining in the conversation just yet as he sat down on the bench and began pulling every plate towards him.

"Dessert for dinner, that's got to be some consolation," Sirius chuckled.

Hermione just said it wasn't common for girls to be asking that.

"I love my wife," James needlessly declared as he grinned at her.

"I've never asked anything like this of you," Lily rolled her eyes at him.

"I know," he smirked as she made his point.

Harry said they should! He could have just told her he fancied her, instead of her bringing up Cedric again!

Hermione agreed it hadn't been sensible, but she was just trying to help Harry understand how Cho had been feeling.

Harry just muttered something about he wasn't looking forward to a repeat, or if he had to, maybe he could sneak Hermione along under the cloak so it wouldn't go as bad again, or maybe Ginny if she'd help him out in trade of getting her out of a Quidditch practice she so clearly hadn't wanted to be in...

Ron told Hermione she should write a book, translating things girls did so boys could understand them.

"That would be a bestseller," Sirius agreed.

"I love Ron just automatically took to the important part of that conversation," Remus snickered.

Harry agreed at once, but as Ginny joined decided to change the subject and asked how practice had gone?

Both said it was a disaster, Ginny stating Angelina was nearly in tears by the end.

"That poor girl," James said with honest sympathy. He'd been lucky to have such a fantastic team his final year, yet every time Angelina turned something happened to hers this year.

The two ate quickly without much more detail and then vanished to clean themselves up, Harry and Hermione finally going back to the common room to start some homework. They were interrupted by the twins showing up, asking if their younger siblings were around yet? When confirmed they weren't, they decided to share more details, having looked in on the practice, and stating what rubbish the team was.

Lily struggled to hold back a new wave of pig headed comments about the new mischief makers of this school, her restraint not helped at all by the sympathetic look growing on James.

George did defend Ginny wasn't bad, an oddity as none of them had ever let her play.

Hermione inserted this was because she'd been stealing their brooms since she was six and practicing on her own.

"Ginny keeps getting better with every mentioning," Remus chuckled.

"Absolutely better than the little fangirl," Harry agreed full heartedly, even if he did look back on that with far more humor than he would have thought.

George now looked impressed as he said that explained things.

"He's so casual about having his stuff being nicked," Sirius grinned as well even if he knew he'd have gone off on Regulus for doing the same.

Hermione tried her hardest not to look up from her work as she asked if Ron had saved one goal?

Fred rolled his eyes as he stated he was quite good when he thought no one was watching. Therefore all they had to do at the next match was have the whole crowd turn their back when the ball was at his end of the pitch.

All four boys groaned and shifted restlessly, James wishing more and more someone would offer Ron some actual helpful advice rather than just complaining about the problem.

Then Fred shifted restlessly as he looked out the window, saying Quidditch had been the only thing this place had been worth staying for.

"That was true several months ago now," Sirius scoffed, "I've no clue why they stuck around after what Umbridge pulled, I haven't heard a lick of revenge from them about it."

"Sirius," Lily said in exasperation. "They've been at it this long, even if they don't care about the grades they may as well finish school by this point they're so close."

"I thought the reason they hadn't bailed was because they didn't want their mum to have more worries," Remus reminded. "That's hardly gone away, if not worse with their fathers recent injury."

Sirius turned back to the book in hopes the twins would give some better answer.

Hermione looked sternly at them as she reminded of their exams.

Harry burst out laughing that the closest thing to have crossed their minds in here was his mother's words, and even she hadn't seemed that concerned about it.

Fred scoffed they were not worried about that one bit. Their Snackboxes were now good to go, Lee had turned them onto this essence of Murtlap and that had cured the boils.

James gave a loud applause at his son yet again helping out the twins, this time even unintentionally! Sirius though cracked up even harder as he realized it was Hermione who'd been the pin in this one, and wondered if anyone ever realized the connection.

"I want to know what possessed them to put that in what they eat," Lily crinkled her nose.

"A bit brilliant though," Remus grinned, "considering the essence is to help ease sore skin, and I can't think of a place they were more sore. If they'd put it on those boils, and realized it made them go away, then the next step would be adding it to their batch."

Lily narrowed her eyes with worry in here that this idea clearly didn't bother a single one of them, there was a reason she cooked in this house.

George kept on point and stated he didn't even want to go to the match this weekend, he'd kill himself if he saw Zacharias won.

"Kill him more like!" James scolded.

Fred corrected kill him instead.

Sirius whooped with laughter and James even joined in that time with glee.

Hermione said this was the whole trouble with Quidditch, it created too much bad blood between houses.

The boys looked properly scandalized at this, but Lily defended Hermione on this one. "I may not like the sport much either, but I think a few things could be altered to make it more bearable for those who aren't obsessed with it."

"Like?" James challenged, clearly already convinced she could offer nothing for this.

"What if, instead of pinning the house teams against each other, any person from any house could be on four separate teams? Captains would still be chosen one from each house, and you'd have to create some structure for how each team got players so that nothing too dirty could be abused during selections, but it would do even more good to support a school unity rather than having another way for them to compete against each other. We already have the House Cup for that."

Her speculation ended there, for now, but she looked around and grinned further when she saw none of the boys were immediately dispelling the idea.

Sirius scrutinized her for an extra minute, but failing to come up with an argument against that, continued for now.

She looked up in the silence to see all those around her looking at her with incredulity.

"Well she did say that to the three players who'd been booted off the team for something entirely not their fault," Sirius defended.

Hermione insisted it did, it was only a game.

James opened and closed his mouth in outrage, and Harry was quite thankful his friend wasn't here now, or she may have gotten her ear chewed off.

Then she snapped at least her happiness wasn't dependent on Ron's goalkeeping ability.

Remus inhaled through his teeth as he watched his friends blanch at that spurn even through the book.

Harry would rather have jumped off the Astronomy Tower than admit it to her, but by the time he had watched the game the following Saturday he would have given any number of Galleons not to care about Quidditch either.

"I blame this on your father," Lily told him.

"It's half Ron's fault," Remus said fairly, "he got Harry into the details of it."

"No," James shook his head to try and distract himself from his own disappointment, "I take full responsibility for this."

The nicest thing to be said, it was short. It was debatable what was worse in the twenty-two minutes, Ron's fourteenth failed saves, Sloper hitting himself with the bat instead of the Bludger, or Kirke actually falling off his broom in surprise after Zacharia had startled him.

"I'm going with that last one," Sirius said critically.

"I'm crying on the inside just hearing about it," James moaned at the display.

Ginny was the only saving grace, managing to make their team only lose by ten points, as she'd caught the Snitch under the other Seekers nose, the final score coming out two hundred and forty to two hundred and thirty, Hufflepuff.

All four boys simultaneously groaned at the idea so many goals had been made, but tried to cheer slightly Ginny had pulled that off! Harry in particular found it a novelty at all to be watching a game from his school and with his disappointment still had far more fun watching Ginny play his usual position than he would have thought.

That evening Harry at least congratulated Ginny on her catch, which went unnoticed in the common room which resembled a particularly dismal funeral.

"I can easily imagine," James hung his head in agreement, he couldn't claim his team had won every game either.

Ginny just said she was lucky, Summerby sneezed at the right moment.

"She shouldn't downplay her own win," Harry rolled his eyes.

"Like you would have done," Sirius snorted, which Harry failed to answer.

Then she changed to saying when Harry was back on the team-

Harry corrected he had a lifelong band.

Ginny corrected right back only so long as Umbridge was here,

"How did you need her to remind you of that," James shivered, "it's the only thing getting me through these."

"Really James? The only thing eh?" Lily demanded of him.

He denied answer, even if he wouldn't take his comment back.

and once Harry was back, she'd go try out for Chaser. Angelina and Alicia were leaving after this year, and she preferred goals to Seeking.

Harry had a very bemused smile in place the others all put down to him trying not to remember something about whether this happened or not.

Harry had nothing to say to that and instead glanced to where Ron was sitting all by himself. Ginny whispered Angelina still wouldn't let him resign, she knew he had it in him.

"Credit to her then," James agreed with enthusiasm, though Remus shook his head in a bit of pity as well, at some point that must feel as much like a punishment as encouragement.

Harry liked Angelina for her faith, but at this point may have found it kinder, especially after the pitch had yet again been filled with another chorus of Weasley is our King.

"I can't wrap my head around the fact that somehow banning the teachers from virtually talking to the students was okay, but not this song!" Lily seethed.

Fred and George wandered over again, Fred saying he didn't even have the heart to take the mickey out of his kid brother yet.

"It's really no fun if they're so despondent they won't react," Sirius agreed, Lily scrunching up her face at him as she thought he was entirely missing the point of not picking on someone when they were down.

Though it was tempting after that last one, then he mimed doing a doggy paddle in mid air as demonstration for Ron's abilities, but when no one looked around, decided to save that for parties.

"I'm sure he appreciates your restraint," Remus said deadpan, while Harry felt a nasty prickling feeling wondering why he couldn't remember Fred doing that again.

Ron took himself up to bed not long later, and Harry waited a few moments so he could pretend to be asleep.

"There's a proper mate," Remus said in understanding, before unbidden the idea of which one of his friends were more like that, and it wasn't the two in the room. He blasted that idea away quickly before it could poison more of his life.

When Harry went up there as well, he was snoring just a little too loudly to be believed, but Harry let him be as he sank into his own bed, still thinking about the game. If only he hadn't been banned, he may have been able to save his team some grace, he'd seen the Snitch fluttering by Kirke's ankle five minutes before Ginny had caught sight of it.

"He really is getting as conceited as you, at least about this sport," Lily snipped at her husband, before properly scolding Harry, "you don't know what you would have done in that moment as well, you've hesitated over the Snitch before so the other Seeker wouldn't come in as well. You might not have even seen it from where you were, you were in a different angle in the stands."

Harry did look a bit abashed at his moment, he'd never want to undermine what Ginny had done.

Umbridge had been sitting a few rows below Harry and Hermione.

"And we snuck down and pitched her head first to the ground below. After setting a teacher on fire, this was nothing!" Sirius kept going with absolute conviction as if reading.

"Technically Hermione did that," Harry pouted, "and you're never going to let that one go, are you?"

"No," all four said at once.

Harry shook his head at all of them before continuing to address Sirius, "and you know perfectly well there was no such thing said in there, even Dumbledore couldn't stop me from getting Cruicio'd by her if we'd tried-" he abruptly stopped, as if his tongue had rolled into his head and he'd had no other choice from the sting of his mind warning him further.

Sirius ignored where Harry had stopped and kept going with a mutter of wishes.

Once or twice she had turned squatly in her seat to look at him, her wide toad's mouth stretched in what he thought had been a gloating smile.

"Oh yes, because that's so much better than what I said," Sirius snarled in outrage, wanting nothing more than to sick a wild dog on her already and make this problem go away.

The memory left him raging with anger, and it took him several extra moment to remember he was supposed to be emptying his mind for his Occlumency practice.

"Have you once managed to do that?" Lily asked, an edge of fear trying to push out her exasperation.

Harry denied answering, which was answer enough.

He tried to do so, but his anger only managed to double and now he couldn't push past his hate for both teachers.

"I know that's what puts me to sleep every night," Sirius agreed with a smirk.

When he did nod off, he started with a dream about Neville dancing with Sprout in the Room of Requirements while McGonagall played the bagpipes.

"There's something really interesting in there," Remus said with a raised brow.

"Yeah, how come you didn't mention her wearing a kilt along with those?" James smirked.

"I thought only blokes wore kilts?" Sirius corrected.

"It was the first Scottish thing that came to mind," he shrugged, "that and potatoes."

"It was a dream!" Harry protested this conversation before it could go further.

They frowned at him for ruining their fun, but since McGonagall wasn't here as their foil, nor would they possibly have even dragged it out this far if she had been, he let it go.

He watched for a while before deciding to find the rest of the DA, but when he exited the room he found himself once again in the long dark corridor with a locked black door.

Harry made a guttural noise of frustration at being reminded of this again! Days weren't even passing in here, he wasn't even having the frequent dream as his memory returned except the two times so far, but as often as it was mentioned he may as well be.

For the first time, there was a crack around one edge, a hint of blue light creeping out. He moved forward, reaching his hand out to push it open no matter how futilely, but then Ron gave a rasping, genuine snore and Harry awoke in his room, with his arm outstretched to something miles away.

Sirius couldn't deny he'd had a rising sense of interest at this new alteration to the dream, but it also made him quiver with unease just as much.

He glanced up at Harry shivering at his side, there was some unreadable look on his face Sirius was more convinced than ever he didn't really want to know.

Remus either didn't notice, or as usual was muttering for himself and didn't seem to realize others could hear. "Well this can't be good, sounded like Voldemort's getting closer to whatever this thing is."

Sirius gave a heavy sigh in agreement before continuing loudly.

Breakfast the next morning started as usual, everyone else receiving their owl mail while Harry poured himself some juice, but then an owl landed in front of him. Considering he'd received all of one letter this year, he was sure this must be a mistake.

Sirius tried his best to hide his anger at this being true. He couldn't believe he was scared away from communicating with Harry! He'd even offered his pup another solution and the little birk had denied that out of some skewed idea he was protecting him! He wasn't even sure himself what it had been, but for Harry to clearly have just forgotten about it and not even bothered to check was maddening! He continued reading with far more hostility than a bit of mail should have offered.

He even checked the address on it, but the recipient was clear as day. Before he had time to react, half a dozen more arrived.

"This isn't like what happened to Hermione last year is it?" Lily asked in concern, remembering the amounts of hate mail the poor dear got.

"Luna said the article wasn't even out yet for him to be getting any," Remus disagreed, though now Sirius felt even more justified in his haste of reading.

The whole hall was watching in confusion at the flock of birds trying to surround Harry, but Hermione reacted first in digging one in particular out with a long, cylindrical partial tied to its leg and said Harry should look at this one first. When he unwrapped it, he found a copy of The Quibbler, with his own picture on front with the title declaring Potter Speaks Out: The Truth about You-Know-Who.

"Luna jumped ahead of schedule," James said with glee.

"Still not sure if I'm a fan of the rest of this showing up," Sirius said grumpily, eyeing the rest of the text with worry. If anyone had sent his godson a cursed letter, that meant Umbridge had let that through her screening of Harry's mail, and that wasn't going to go over well.

Luna appeared, shoving her way onto the bench near him so she could say her dad had got it out yesterday and sent Harry a free copy, she supposed all of these were letters from those who'd read it.

Hermione asked if they could go through them, and Harry bemusedly told them to help themselves.

"That's a better reaction than you usually have to getting attention," Lily chuckled.

Ron found one that was from a guy telling Harry he was off his rocker, while Hermione read out one detailing how Harry should be put in St. Mungo's for shock therapy.

Remus scrunched up his face in agitation for that particular suggestion, Harry was tortured enough thank you.

Harry found one that actually concluded in someone agreeing, and believing Harry.

Fred had one that said he couldn't decide what to think, and declared it a waste of parchment.

"Everybody wants to put their opinion out there, even if it isn't an actual opinion," Sirius said in an attempt at Remus' wise voice.

Remus rolled his eyes for his friend.

Hermione managed to find at least three more of people who Harry had convinced!

Ron found one from a woman who Harry had converted, and she'd sent a picture, he trailed off with a wow.

"Err," James said with concerned curiosity.

"I never got to see the picture," Harry answered with that bemused expression lingering in here, so he had no clue if Ron's reaction was to be a good thing or bad for that.

Inserting her girlish voice into their conversation, Umbridge arrived to demand to know what was going on.

"He sent out a request for toad repellent, he still didn't get enough," Remus said with a straight face.

Fred demanded if getting mail was a crime now?

Umbridge told him to watch his tongue or she'd start issuing detentions.

Lily bite down so hard on her tongue from shouting out in frustration for the grounds of this her eyes began welling up in pain. She could never stand the idea of that woman anywhere near Harry, never mind the casual way she dished out torture and no on in that school had done a thing to stop it!

Harry tossed his issue of The Quibbler at her for explanation, and then quickly looked to the staff table to see Dumbledore. He'd felt for a moment his headmaster was watching him, but for now it looked as if he was talking deeply to Flitwick.

"I've yet seen your instincts fail you," Remus said blandly, "so I wouldn't be surprised if you were right." It made none of them feel better this treatment was being continued as casually as Umbridge's.

Umbridge was gazing flabbergasted at the article, demanding what he meant by this interview?

Harry responded a reporter had asked him questions and he'd answered them.

Sirius let out a triumphant bark of laughter, everyone else getting a giggle out of that as well.

Her voice growing higher with anger, she asked of him when this had taken place?

Harry said his last Hogsmeade trip.

Her response to this was to ban him from further visits.

The three Marauders blanched in further outrage from that pond scum. The detentions were still worse, but if there was one thing she could do to strike them hardest, it was ban them from their home turf. She grew luckier by the page they weren't there in person to teach her a thing or two about how she was treating their boy.

Then began hissing how he dared!

"Yes, how dare he have a voice in saying what happened to him that doesn't conform to you," James said dangerously, that smile still in place turning eerie as he thought of yet more curses he planned on using on her someday soon.

Then she decided her message had not yet received, and took fifty points away from Gryffindor as well as another week of detentions.

Harry let out a low whistle even if his face was bland while he stated, "whoever would have imagined Umbridge would do me a favor in getting me out of an Occlumency lesson."

"This isn't funny Harry," James said flatly, his voice flat and his eyes flashing.

Harry raised his hands in surrender at once, wincing and regretting trying to make it funny even if in his own head he was still weighing the two on levels of awful and couldn't quite decide which was worse.

She stalked away with the magazine still in hand, and by midday had issued a new decree that anyone caught with this would be expelled.

Lily felt her mouth flop open in true resignation of the stupidity of these. How did they manage to keep getting more ridiculous with every one?!

The boys were so sick of these being made up on the spot and being passed as actual laws they'd even run out of insults for them, something they wouldn't have believed possible before.

For some reason, every time Hermione caught sight of one of these signs she beamed with pleasure.

"What do you mean, for some reason?" Remus asked Harry, he found the woman's own idiocy almost brilliant.

"Everyone already thinks I'm a nutter, and just cause I said something in a paper wouldn't really change that," Harry said, his spirits clearly hadn't kept hold of that warmth pushing back at the Ministry this had originally given him. "Now there's no way anyone's going to risk getting expelled just to hear my account of being a madman even more."

"Oh Harry," Sirius chuckled, while James shook his head affectionately. "You have no idea what Umbridge just did."

Harry continued to just look around at them, but Sirius kept going before Lily could explain like she was clearly fixing to.

Harry asked what had her in such a good mood, and Hermione explained that if there was one thing Umbridge could have done to make sure every single person read that, it was banning it.

Harry still didn't seem to get it, and was opening his mouth to interrupt again to say so, so Lily did state, "remember back to your first week, how you suspected everyone was talking about your first detention in hopes you'd start shouting at them as well?"

He didn't have to think long before the realization hit, and he nodded as she finished, "they do want to hear you, it's far easier to form an opinion of a first hand account rather than what Dumbledore said. I'm not promising it will change everyone's minds, but those letters you were sent was the perfect example of how this will put things inside school as well."

Harry suddenly turned eagerly back to Sirius now, hope finally filtering through every bit of him! Umbridge had managed to take away yet one more thing about school he loved, now he had managed to circle back around to being banned from Hogsmeade again. In return, she may have gifted him with his best weapon yet in spreading his story for him.

Hermione's statement turned out to be very true. They could no longer walk down the corridor without hearing people talking about the article, but not a corner of The Quibbler ever came into sight. Hermione even said the girls restroom was filled with telling each other about it.

"There's evidence as if we needed it," Sirius snickered.

Then the occupants had spotted Hermione and knew she knew Harry, and they'd bombarded her with questions, and they all seemed convinced of him now.

It was amazing to finally see him smiling in here, practically glowing. The idea of what he'd been put through this year had weighed on him for so long they'd hardly been able to recognize it until it was being lifted away before their eyes. Finally, something had gone right for Harry, and no one, not even Umbridge was taking that away.

Meanwhile, Professor Umbridge was stalking the school, stopping students at random and demanding that they turn out their books and pockets: Harry knew she was looking for copies of The Quibbler, but the students were several steps ahead of her.

All four of them already had that flippant smile set in place, one Harry had grown to associate with their idea they'd never be caught by the teachers of that school. The lot of them weren't long from their own teen years and hiding things from anyone and everyone, and they couldn't wait to see how others were doing the same.

The pages carrying Harry's interview had been bewitched to resemble extracts from textbooks if anyone but themselves read it, or else wiped magically blank until they wanted to pursue it again.

"Passable," Sirius said reasonably.

"Sometimes subtler can be safest," Remus shrugged.

Soon it seemed that every single person in the school had read it. The teachers were of course forbidden from mentioning the interview by Educational Decree Number Twenty- six,

"I never thought the idiocy of that one could be passed, could I please stop being proven wrong," James rolled his eyes.

but they found ways to express their feelings about it all the same. Professor Sprout awarded Gryffindor twenty points when Harry passed her a watering can;

"My favorite thing that teacher's ever done," Sirius chuckled.

a beaming Professor Flitwick pressed a box of squeaking sugar mice on him at the end of Charms before hurrying away;

Lily giggled affectionately for her old favorite teacher.

and Professor Trelawney broke into hysterical sobs during Divination and announced to the startled class, and a very disapproving Umbridge, that Harry was not going to suffer an early death after all, but would live to a ripe old age, become Minister for Magic and have twelve children.

All five of them got a crack out of that one. They seemed to forget a lot how much fun Trelawney could be and enjoyed the reminders.

The best part of all was Cho catching up to Harry, lacing his hand with hers as she whispered in his ear that the interview had been really brave and made her cry.

"Was, that an apology, or...?" James trailed off with a furrowed brow.

"She was holding his hand, I'll take that as a sign of forgiveness for meeting up with other girls," Sirius rolled his eyes at the girls further dramatics.

Harry had a soft smile in place, he was happy he'd found some more even ground with her, and they all wondered if they'd been dead wrong at the end of Harry's first date. Maybe he and Cho did make up and further on from there.

He was sorry to hear she had shed even more tears over it,

Lily couldn't help a further smattering of giggles, all boys considered crying a bad thing, even tears of joy.

but very glad they were on speaking terms again, and even more pleased when she gave him a swift kiss on the cheek and hurried off again.

Harry touched the spot on his cheek, his smile growing more as his face took on another tinge of red, and for once he could easily ignore the snickers of those around him. He could still feel something for Cho, and though it didn't feel nearly as powerful as he thought it would if he'd married her, perhaps his full memories just hadn't been returned yet and he'd have even more happy memories of sharing time with her.

Unbelievably, no sooner had he arrived outside Transfiguration than something just as good happened: Seamus stepped out of the queue to face him.

"Finally!" Remus said in relief. It hadn't exactly been a major drama, but it was still boggling the idea one of Harry's roommates had taken so long to believe Harry. Even not being close friends, Seamus really would have been expected to be one of those who'd know better.

He spoke to Harry's knee as he mumbled his apology, but firmly said he now believed Harry and had sent a copy of that magazine to his mum.

"It's a start," Sirius raised a brow at that.

"I accepted it," Harry said agreeably, that smile was finally so carefree in here, they were all still smiling as well.

Still better, was that whomever would have retaliated such as children from the Death Eaters he had named, could do nothing,

Lily smiled grimly to herself, beyond pleased as she realized they now had names for all of Voldemort's inner circle. There were still more out there, there would always be more Death Eaters, but if she could find one good thing in the throes of these wretched things happening to her son, it was the justice those vermin would get.

because in doing so they'd admit to having read the article themselves.

James pumped his fist in triumph while Sirius cackled, all five of them beyond words at this level of comeuppance.

To cap it all, Luna told him over dinner that no issue of The Quibbler had ever sold out faster.

"Imagine that," Remus said dryly with a friendly chuckle.

Excitedly telling him that her dad was reprinting, people found this more interesting than the Crumple-Horned Snorkack!

"Miracles," Sirius almost managed with a straight face.

Fred and George chose to celebrate this by hanging up a large banner in the Gryffindor dorm, the poster of Harry's face that they'd enchanted to shout 'Ministry are Morons' and 'Eat Dung Umbridge' loudly through the room.

All four boys got yet more laughter out of this, though Lily thought that was pushing it just a touch too far. Umbridge hadn't yet, but she half feared at this point the woman would show up and give the whole house detention.

The charm wore off after a few hours, and by the time night rolled around it was merely squeaking 'Dung,' and 'Umbridge.'

"I'm actually quite confident it would still be amusing," James corrected, thinking of some clever things he could do if he figured out the timing of those words.

Lily didn't argue the point even as she watched his calculating look with exasperation.

To the disappointment of people still chatting to Harry about the article, he excused himself for an early night as his scar began to prickle.

They hated how short lived Harry's happiness was, but before their eyes they saw he was already starting to twitch with unease again, rubbing at his scar, his eyes taking on that glazed look of pain all over again.

The dormitory was empty when he entered, sinking onto his bed and rubbing at his forehead which was paining him worse every moment. Hoping sleep would help, he laid down, and instantly fell asleep.

Lily shivered down to her bone even before Sirius could catch his breath to keep going. Harry hadn't stopped rubbing his scar in here since it was mentioned, and he was looking just as sick as described. She wanted to make Sirius stop, to go get him a cold press for his forehead if that helped him even for a second, but she knew the truth, she was just delaying. They could all feel it was happening again, Harry's fingers trembling and him pulling into himself as some new terrible memory was resurfacing, and the faster they pushed through it the better.

He was standing in a dark, curtained room lit by a single branch of candles. His hands were clenched on the back of a chair in front of him. They were long-fingered and white as though they had not seen sunlight for years and looked like large, pale spiders against the dark velvet of the chair.

Sirius hung his head, shook it for a moment in agitation for having to be right about this, and then took a very long, deep breath before reading the latest travesty of Harry's life in having to see what Voldemort was up to. It was lost on no one this was yet another level of advanced, Harry now seeing directly into Voldemort's mind, the only thing that could be said was at least Harry hadn't been awake as well, he'd fallen asleep, so there was some consistency in this. Even that smallest moment of understanding and knowing one thing about this was of the vaguest comfort.

In the small pool of light was a huddled man. In a high cold voice resonating from Harry's throat, he spoke about how he'd been ill advised.

Sirius looked wildly around, and waited very impatiently for Harry to meet his eyes. He didn't quite manage it, looking more above his left ear, but Sirius said with such determination, that Harry felt he had no choice but to look him full on, "that is not you!"

Harry had no response for that, but clearly Sirius wasn't doing a thing until he got something, so Harry gave a wobbly nod to his head.

The kneeling man craved his pardon, Harry responding that it was not Rookwoods fault.

Sirius twitched harshly again at having to say that, Harry half expected him to chew off his tongue in frustration, but thankfully he didn't call Harry on it again, they all knew it was only in Harry's mind so that would be how he'd describe it.

Then he demanded Rookwood was sure of his facts?

Rookwood seemed to agree, having worked in that Department after all.

Harry responded that Avery had told that Bode would have been able to do it.

Rookwood corrected Bode, the man himself would know it, which is likely why he'd fought so hard against Malfoy's Imperius Curse.

Remus could feel the usefulness of this information relating to a past event they'd heard about, but for now he was far more concerned hearing Harry wake up already and filed it all away. Unless Voldemort was going to be revealing his mortal weakness, seeing Harry in such intense pain from remembering this would never be worth it.

Harry whispered for Rookwood to take to his feet, and the man was in such haste to do so he nearly fell to the floor again. Even having accomplished this, he still stayed stooped, as if terrified to meet Harry's face.

James felt a disgusted taste lingering in his mouth at such an act he could never comprehend. Such proud Death Eater's treating any man like this was beyond him.

Harry praised Rookwood for this, murmuring they would have to begin again on new schemes with this information. Then he asked that Avery be summoned to him.

For the moment he was alone, Rookwood scrambling out of sight to do as told, Harry turned and found an image of himself in a cracked mirror. His eyes were red with slits in a flat white skull.

Harry hollered loudly in pain, screaming no! Ron found him like this, tangled in his bed curtains.

Sirius closed his eyes in blessing that was finally over, his grey eyes looked ready to shatter as he looked back to Harry with more concern than he ever had for anyone in his life.

Harry wasn't looking at any of them, his eyes tight shut and his jaw aching from clenching it so hard to stop his own scream. He hated these visions, hated how they kept inexplicably reminding him of this connection to Voldemort he had no control over, but most of all he couldn't stand to look at his parents while they were happening. The monster that had cut their life short, and Harry kept reminding them of it all happening just by continuing to live.

Inexplicably, they refused to think the same. That was the only explanation for Lily saying in a tone he could have easily found in Molly Weasley, "Harry love, we should take a break."

He opened his eyes slowly, breathing steadily through his nose to find the pair huddled into each other with, well him in their lap. Maybe they just couldn't disconnect the two from the infant who'd done nothing to the life he was cursed to live dragging everyone else around him with.

"No," he whispered, still unable to look at any of them, how his dad and friends were probably trying to stop themselves laughing silly at how he had to fight back tears every time this happened, wondering when Ron would start accusing him of the boy who cried wolf as it seemed he couldn't go any length of time without panicking over something. "No, I just want to," he gestured vaguely back at his stupid biography, trying to grasp hold of anything to take away these poisonous thoughts from himself. He felt like a curse, any managing of happiness seemed destined to be dragged back into the reminder of how quickly he could lose all of it.

Sirius couldn't make himself immediately keep going, sick with worry as everyone else for just what was going through Harry's head. At least no one he'd cared about had been attacked this time, but for a reason his godson could not explain, the more frequent these visions, the more Harry seemed convinced his life was going to end in ruin. He couldn't imagine how these could continue to get worse, but surely if they were to get better he wouldn't be treating these like a death omen.

Remus had to nudge him hard to get his attention before whispering in his ear, "we can only help by continuing, that's proven to work already, don't let him dwell on whatever he's blaming himself for."

Sirius gave a jerky nod of agreement, fighting past blurry vision for the print again rather than focusing on his distraught godson.

Ron had to struggle with his friend for him to roll free, before demanding if his dad was okay, had that snake attacked again?

Not one of them could blame Ron for this assumption, they would have thought the same if they hadn't knowledge of what it had been.

Harry sat up wildly, convinced his forehead was on fire as he explained in gasping breaths what had happened. Ron at first couldn't grasp what had happened, Harry had seen You-Know-Who?

Harry shivered, his seat the only thing keeping him upright. He couldn't understand how Ron had never looked at him with revulsion like he felt for himself during this. Yet he'd found it no more in Ron's face than any of those around him. He wanted to believe that meant something, but he was too stuck in his own pit to grasp anything else except how much worse this was all going to get before these stopped, if they ever did.

Harry corrected he had been You-Know-Who.

Sirius at least looked a little quailed from his earlier outburst. Harry wasn't even referring to Voldemort by name, he was trying to put some distance into what he'd just witnessed. Harry could never really think he had more to do with Voldemort other than the constant...bother he was in Harry's life.

Then Harry went to talking about Rookwood, and Bode's involvement.

Ron realized that Bode was bewitched to remove something, the weapon.

That feeling of significance from before settled on all of them now, Ron and Harry working this out for them feeling like just a little weight had been pushed away so they wouldn't have to immediately speak of it again while in here. Sirius wished he could be closer to done with this already, he wanted to force Harry to take a break from all of this, but he seemed determined now. Any time Sirius stopped for too long or glanced towards the kitchen, Harry actually would meet his eyes. They were too hard, a distance in them he seemed unable to beat away, but he could still look at Sirius with an expression clearly saying he wanted past this and the only way to do that was for him to keep going.

The door opened then, Dean and Seamus entering. Harry straightened himself at once. Seamus had only just stopped thinking him a nutter, and he didn't want him thinking anything else odd was going on.

"Priorities," James managed to say. It came out far too high pitched, but Harry gave him credit for trying when he still couldn't stop rubbing at a scar that wasn't even paining him in here, only in his memories.

Ron kept himself close to Harry in the guise of getting himself some water as he told him he had to tell-

but Harry said he wasn't telling anyone anything. He wasn't supposed to have seen this at all because of his Occlumency, they wanted him to shut this out.

Both Sirius and Remus flinched like Harry had tried to curse them. In this future of trying to convince him he needed to stop these, now Harry had clearly convinced himself more than ever he should be keeping all of this to himself rather than asking for help.

James noticed, and said firmly, "Harry couldn't have told you even if he'd wanted to, there's no way he could get a note like that out." He finished internally he didn't even blame Harry at this point for not wanting to tell anyone else like Dumbledore. If the man couldn't be bothered to explain his actions towards ignoring Harry's existence than his son certainly shouldn't force himself to be in his company.

By they, he'd meant Dumbledore.

Sirius had looked just a bit better at James' reminder, but it was both of some comfort Harry hadn't meant him, and also just a touch more hurtful he hadn't crossed his mind in wanting to say something about this.

He got back into bed and rolled over so Ron couldn't do anymore, yet could not fall back asleep as his scar continued to burn across his forehead. He bit his pillow in his urge not to shout out in pain, as somewhere far away, Avery was being punished.

Lily made a high pitched noise of concern, her infant in her lap making some fussing noises at his mother's distress. She spent several moments just crooning to him it was all going to be alright while watching her elder child, who was watching back with a look she couldn't place.

The next morning, the two told Hermione all of this over morning break.

She quickly put it all together that this was why Bode had been killed. He'd been regaining himself back and could tell what had happened, and they couldn't have that. Malfoy must have done all this, as often as he was in the Ministry and all of his connections.

"This really is all making a disturbing amount of sense," Remus grumbled, this wasn't helping with their whole trying to change the subject thing. Of course it was a good thing Harry was finally getting some answers, it was absolutely fascinating one scrap of information and Hermione was putting all of this together so easily and saving them from false theories that would only hurt Harry in their speculation.

Harry agreed he'd been there the very day of his trial, though Arthur had only said he was trying to sneak down there for that-

Hermione cut him off by gasping out Sturgis. She realized that Sturgis had been another victim of all this, Malfoy must have tried the same ploy on him, shooting the curse in hopes of catching someone guarding the door, but the Imperiused Sturgis had been caught even earlier in his attempts to break in, hence where he was in Azkaban.

"Oh Merlin," Lily sighed as that was crammed down their throats. As if the Order wasn't suffering enough these days. They supposed if they'd thought about this one after the last revelation of where the weapon was being hidden they would have put this together, but considering all the terrible things they'd been trying to keep track of while also trying to keep Harry's mind off of them, it was almost a relief Hermione putting this for them.

Harry finishing now Rookwood seemed to have told how to really get that weapon, and would probably be sent to fetch it next.

Harry had hated his premonitions from the very beginning, almost afraid of this knowledge in his head he couldn't access in knowing these answers, and somehow the worst of all was the feeling he was getting for who it was that would be sent for this.

Hermione went from nodding in agreement, to abruptly telling Harry off for having seen this at all.

"Well he's hardly been given a suitable way not to," Sirius scowled for her sudden change.

Lily frowned deeply, wishing Severus had given something more useful to Harry than the same repetitive advice that clearly wasn't being of much help.

Harry was taken aback at her change, but Hermione sternly insisted he was supposed to be closing his mind to these things and should be practicing harder at his Occlumency.

"It's almost hurtful she thinks I'm not," Harry grumbled, shaking his head and honestly wishing this whole thing would quit being mentioned lately.

Harry was so angry with her he didn't speak to her the rest of the morning, and his day didn't improve from there. The students were still laughing loudly about the last Quidditch game, and Weasley is our King erupted so frequently in the corridors Filch banned it from sheer irritation.

"The first good thing that man's ever done," Remus groused, Harry's mood feeling like an infection. They hadn't kept him smiling for a whole chapter before his high anger was pushing them all back on edge.

The week wasn't going much better, he couldn't shake that dream, but didn't bring it up again as he knew Hermione would only further tell him off for it.

All four of them could be seen rolling their eyes as Hermione continued to act more like a paranoid parent than anything, it wasn't soothing any nerves she couldn't be of any more help than Snape with anything to say other than more practice at something that was just causing Harry pain.

He wished he could talk to Sirius about it, but as that was out of the question, he tried to keep the idea at the back of his head.

Sirius chewed on the inside of his cheek unhappily for a moment, but was all the more agitated he couldn't come up with anything to tell Harry either except more transparent hope.

Unfortunately, the back of his mind was no longer secure these days.

His next Occlumency lesson went the same as always, constantly finding himself on the floor with a swirl of memories, mostly from his primary years and Dudley's old humiliations on him.

"Oh because that's really going to make me feel better," James said bitterly, fighting back the urge more every moment to walk out of the room and find something to curse.

Snape had again cut the connection, and demanded to know what the last one seen was?

They all jumbled together so much for him, Harry thought he was asking about the toilet.

"Err," Remus began, unsure if he wanted an explanation or it would only make things worse.

"I was eight," Harry began prattling off just for the sudden possession of not having to think about magic for a moment, who ever would have thought being bullied by Dudley would be considered a simpler time for him. "Petunia had just got done cleaning the bathrooms, and Dudley was bored so he wanted to see her yell at me. He tried to pick me up and put me in so I'd have to walk around the house with wet feet. That's where the memory ended for Snape," he finished, but continued on even though he didn't really want to, Remus had been right the first time, this probably wasn't going to make them feel better. "I bit Dudley so I wouldn't go in though, and then I ran out of the house till I came back near dinner, which I was denied and locked in my cupboard for because Vernon said the the teeth marks were still there. He told Dudley to bite me back, but he didn't want to because he said it was gross. So I said back I thought I should spend the night in the bathroom, I'd already been throwing up all day from nicking him."

He finished and looked around at them again, expecting to see yet more anger or something, but instead he saw an almost proud smirk from James. "Always love hearing you gave them hell back."

Harry managed an honest grin at him, hoping he'd return the favor by telling him some story from his youth again, and James happily provided. "Reminds me of the time Sirius bit Remus, and we got into this whole argument about what would happen if a werewolf bit a person while he was still human."

Harry busted out laughing more from surprise than anything as he demanded the obvious from his godfather, "why did you bite him?"

"I told him if he took one more of my sugar quills I would," Sirius shrugged, "he clearly didn't take me Siriusly."

Harry doubled up laughing all the harder while Remus rolled his eyes at the lot of them and tried to take the book away from Sirius to keep going. Sirius bared his teeth, Remus rolled his eyes harder, but Sirius kept going.

Snape corrected the one with the kneeling man in the dark room.

Harry denied knowledge of it as Snape tried to bore into Harry's eyes. Remembering eye contact was key in catching a lie in Legilimency, Harry looked away.

"I'm disturbed he's parted wisdom on you," James tisked even as he approved of this.

Snape was not fooled, asking how that particular place wound up inside his head?

"He has a very vivid imagination," Sirius snarked.

Harry tried to play it off as a dream, but Snape cut him off by demanding if Potter remembered why Snape was giving up his evenings for this tedious work.

"As opposed to counting your friends again?" Remus smirked.

"All none of them," Sirius agreed.

Lily frowned lightly at them, and James who wasn't bothering to repress a smile. She may be angry at Snape for treating Harry the way he was, but she still knew she'd never devolve into such petty insults.

Harry responded it was to learn Occlumency.

Snape said that Potter was correct and dim as he was, Harry finally looking back to him with hatred,

"That went without saying," James groused, Lily's eyes flashing in agitation again at once. Even for the one second she'd wanted to defend him it was gone again as he continued insulting her boy who in no way deserved it.

he would have expected after two months some progress. Then he asked how many more of these dreams had occurred?

Harry lied and said no more.

Again, Snape did not believe him, then asked if Potter was even trying? Perhaps he enjoyed these visions, thinking it made himself special, important.

Harry snapped how untrue this was.

Snape coldly responded that was true, he was in no way special or important. It was not of his business what the Death Eaters got up to.

Harry shot back that was Snape's job.

Sirius cocked his head to the side, some amusement for Harry snapping at him in there, but mostly wanting to make the jab Harry could do Snape's job and they wouldn't need the man around at all. It was all lost though before he'd even formed the idea, he still didn't want Harry having to deal with this, let Snape take the risk.

There was a glint in Snape's eyes as he whispered that was true at least.

"You impressed him," Lily said, narrowing her eyes curiously at such a response.

"I think I'm going to faint," James declared, they all looked astounded Snape hadn't just told Harry to shut his mouth again.

Then he at once pushed Harry into going again, hardly waiting past the count of three before Legilimens was used on Harry, and again he was flying through a whirl of memories. He was surrounded by a hundred dementors, he could see their shapeless mouths coming closer, but then he was back in Snape's office, the two overlapping each other and wobbling...Harry collected himself long enough to shout 'Protego.'

"Oh dear," Lily turned flat white in shock, but she hadn't a second to say anything even if she could have hazard a guess what this would do.

It did nothing to stop the flood of memories, but suddenly they weren't Harry's. A little boy sat in the corner crying as an unfamiliar man with a hooked nose shouted at a cowering woman with greasy black hair- a teenager sat alone cursing flies off his ceiling- a girl was laughing as a scrawny boy was thrown from a bucking broomstick-

She wasn't sure if Sirius just didn't care, or didn't know what that would do, but by the time he'd realized it, he'd simply kept going until he ran out before looking around at his friends with a contemplative look on his face.

"Well, err, I recognized that last one," Remus said awkwardly for Harry. "That was Mary Macdonald laughing anyways, our flying practice during first year."

Harry hardly heard him, the same stunned look on his face as the rest of the boys, before they all looked to Lily, who sighed deeply. "I'm not telling you, it's private." She said flatly without looking at any of them.

The fact that she knew what that first memory was about somehow made it even more awkward for them. Still, Sirius turned back with the same look on his face he always did when reading about Snape, he didn't consider how a parent treated you any excuse for what the guy kept doing to Harry.

Snape cut these off, Harry falling back as if shoved in the chest. He again found himself on the floor, looking up at his potions teacher.

Snape spoke in a carefully controlled voice that had actually been of some improvement, brushing his hand against the Pensive that was again in the room, as if checking to make sure the rest of his memories in there were intact.

"And now we see why," James muttered, his eyes still narrowed as he thought back to many insults he'd made in the past, and actually feeling a little bad for a few of them. He knew Snape would never do the same though, Snape knew everything Harry had gone through in his life and continued to treat him the exact same way.

Harry did not speak, feeling in the most danger yet. He was reeling that the same crying child had grown into a man with such loathing gazing down at him.

Lily had a hard time swallowing for a moment, stinging tears in her own eyes as vivid memories from her own childhood resurfaced. Realizing he'd run to her house in the dead of night and throwing rocks at her window until she came sneaking down. The two staying up in their little grove till sunrise wishing there was some escape from those who hated them. At least her own parents had been a bridge between her and her sister, and she'd tried to be that for Sev and his parents, but it had never truly worked, and she'd never even bothered to find out if it got better after she'd stopped speaking to him. She blinked back into the room to find James with his arm tight around her, brushing at the baby's hair and actually holding his tongue against whatever that look meant until she nodded to Sirius to keep going.

Snape instructed Harry to get to his feet, they were going again. Harry did so with dread, knowing he was about to pay for what he'd just seen.

Sirius ground his teeth together hard in frustration for that. Harry was about to be punished again for something from Snape's past.

Harry had not a second to collect himself before it started again, but this time he was revisiting the dark corridor from his memories. As always he ran down, and the blue light was peeking through again. Harry reached for it, and this time, the door opened.

He was in a circular room with floor and ceiling black as night, even more doors on every side of him, the only light coming from blue candles mounted on the walls. He had to keep going, push through into one of the next doors- but then he was back in Snape's office, the man glaring at him with more anger than ever.

Harry gasped wildly, startling so bad he nearly fell out of his seat. Sirius glanced to him in concern, then looked to the others for some sort of explanation. They all looked just as stunned though, unable to understand what was happening here.

"Harry's never been this far before, and Voldemort shouldn't have either!" Lily protested what she was hearing vehemently. "No one should be seeing this!"

"Maybe, maybe Rookwood has though," James ruffled up his brow as he considered the latest Voldemort news. "He worked in this place, right? So he would have shown Voldemort everything he'd seen, and now, now Harry knows as well," he finished sounding just as confused as when he'd started.

"Should it really work like that though?" Harry sounded just as panicky as his mother. "I don't want to know this, see this! I don't want all of his memories and anything he knows in my head!"

He sounded so desperate and panicky by the end, it truly broke the others hearts to see him like this.

"Oh Harry," Lily pleaded, letting the words tumble out on pure instinct. "You can't keep thinking like that-"

"How else am I supposed to think when it keeps being shoved at me!" He snapped back, but Lily wouldn't be deterred.

"You remind yourself why you're doing this! If you want Voldemort out of your head, then you work on every available way to do that! You're worried Voldemort's taking over your life then you remind yourself of all the people who are on your side and fighting to get rid of him!"

Harry kept watching her like he hoped she'd keep going, but she met his eyes and waited as they ebbed back into that calm, that understanding that had pushed him to cope with every terrible thing he'd relearned while here.

She nodded fiercely and waved Sirius on. It seemed to take him a moment, to watch the fifteen year old girl crying over the loss of her childhood friend be flipped into that mother who refused to see her child fall into the same hopeless feeling. He went back to reading with a smile of pride on his face.

He was panting as though he really had experienced all this in person.

Harry couldn't believe how grateful he actually felt towards Snape for stopping this. It was the first time in his life he looked past the hateful potions teacher and knew Snape could actually be of some help to his life if he'd quit insulting him every step along the way.

Snape demanded Harry explain that one, and Harry rubbed at a lump on the back of his head from falling down again while honestly saying he had no clue what that had been, he'd never been that far before-

Snape cut in hatefully he wasn't working hard enough!

Harry rubbed at where the lump used to be, suddenly more ashamed than ever for is poor Occlumency skills. His mother was right, and so was Snape, he'd never really tried to do this. It was of some comfort to him his father and friends rolled their eyes for Snape's jab, that they weren't blaming Harry for this...yet. He pulled away from that at once, there would never be a time they'd blame him because of whatever this connection was, right?!

Potter was lazy, and sloppy, it was no wonder the Dark Lord was-

Harry cut in to ask why Snape called him that, he'd only known Death Eaters to refer to him as such.

Snape opened his mouth, a crude retort clearly awaiting, when a woman screamed.

Sirius startled so bad he nearly dropped the book from surprise. Then he cast his mind out before anyone could get too panicky, and said the first thing that came to mind. "Finally, something entertaining is happening around there!"

Remus gave him a look of great concern as he demanded, "just what could a scream be used for as a good thing?"

"For shame Moony!" Sirius wagged his finger in his face. "Scream of surprise, scream of delight, hell even screaming in laughter! Don't get so dower on me a scream is only a bad thing now."

"I worry about him," Lily told James in an almost conversational tone of voice.

James agreed, but instead he told him, "well get on with it then, or we'll be spending the next hour with you recanting the last time you made a girl scream, and no one wants to hear that again."

Sirius rolled his eyes but complied anyways.

They both looked sharply to the ceiling, Snape asking if Potter had seen anything this would relate to on his way down here?

"Someone standing in the middle of the school screaming? Oh yeah, just slipped my mind," Remus rolled his eyes.

When Harry said no, Snape strode out, and Harry only hesitated a moment before following.

"I'm not even sure why you hesitated," James scoffed.

The scream appeared to have resonated from the large ring in the Entrance Hall, and Harry have to shove his way to get a view. The first face he registered was across the ring, McGonagall looked faintly sick at the proceedings.

Lily felt goosebumps erupt on her at this. If whatever was happening was upsetting McGonagall, but she wasn't stepping in, then what the bloody hell could be happening!?

Then he fully saw Trelawney in the middle, looking more mad than ever. She'd clearly fallen down the last flight of steps, her hair was flyaway and her glasses askew, all of her beads in a pool around her as if she were melting. Even her luggage looked strewn around at her feet. She was gazing up at someone Harry couldn't quite see, who must be standing at the foot of the stairs.

"What in the world..." Remus tried, and failed, but the shock was keeping them all from saying much of anything, Sirius hurrying through words so fast they were mashing together. None of them had a very fond feeling for Trelawney, but it was impossible to believe she was a spectacle without anyone stepping in to whatever mayhem this was!

Trelawney shrieked this wasn't true, she couldn't accept it!

A girlish voice responded surely this wasn't a surprise.

Harry finally got around the last person to see Umbridge, brimming with glee as she gazed down, her voice more feminine than ever with her own delight as she explained that though Trelawney was incapable of predicting the weather, she must have seen this coming.

"You have got to be kidding me!" Lily shrieked, the baby in her lap now fussing in his blankets in her lap. "That is, this isn't, how could she-" she forced herself to stop screaming because her child had joined in, but the anger wasn't being cooled one little bit.

"Why can't this stupid curse kick in early already," Remus scowled. "I want her gone well before the end of the year, like the staircase collapsing on her right now!"

Sirius was too shocked to keep going for a moment. Like Harry had said before, this had been forthcoming with how obvious it was Trelawney may not be around the rest of the year, but no one could have foreseen such a brutal showing like this.

Trelawney had tears pouring down her face as she stated this couldn't happen, Hogwarts was her home!

"Does she even have anywhere else to go?" Remus whispered. He really didn't know much about her except for her classes, but suddenly he wondered if she was like Hagrid, if she had no other place to call home like a few of the other teachers did.

He hadn't expected an answer, and it was probably kinder he hadn't gotten one, no one wanted to consider the alternative.

Umbridge stated this was her home,

"This is..." sick didn't begin to cover it, but James was failing to come up with another word. He'd never even seen some of the Death Eaters out there enjoy watching someone else in so much pain, in such a public way!

until an hour ago when the Minister had co-signed the Order of Dismissal. Umbridge requested Trelawney escort herself off the property, she was embarrassing them.

"How she dare!" Lily was still fired up over every detail of this. "Them! She's no right to put herself in line with anything to do with that school, with a decision no respectable person would ever dream of putting together!"

Even as she said it, her own gloating euphoria didn't dim, she was clearly enjoying the show as Trelawney sobbed in place. There were some muffled crying to Harry's side as well, and he glanced over to see Lavender and Parvati clutching each other with tears in their own eyes.

James was shaking his head in honest sympathy for the two. Though he couldn't imagine just standing around crying during this scene, he knew he would have been in Umbridge's face telling her what's what about this even for a teacher he didn't like. The woman may have the audacity to kick a teacher out of his school, but she couldn't force that teacher to leave the premises...yet.

Then his mind offered one last desperate hope, where was Dumbledore? Surely he'd find some way to stop this? The idea was dashed as soon as it had appeared though, as Dumbledore hadn't seemed to be doing much of anything these days.

McGonagall did step in then, marching to Trelawney's side and offering her a handkerchief and a firm arm around her shoulders.

Lily finally felt herself relaxing, just a touch, as she hummed with approval. McGonagall could always be counted on to offer up some comfort to those who needed it, she was still stunned it had taken this long for their old Transfiguration teacher to step in for this injustice.

McGonagall comforted Sybil she wouldn't have to be leaving anywhere, while Umbridge tried to contest whose authority Minerva had to be saying that?

The front doors opened in that exact moment, and Dumbledore made his entrance.

"I feel the need to reiterate the book now," Sirius beamed, "what an entrance."

Remus smacked him lightly and called him an idiot even as he was smiling as well. Finally Dumbledore's timing felt like it was back on their side.

What he'd been doing on the front lawns was anyone's guess, but he swooped right in on the scene and informed Umbridge that was not her position to claim.

Umbridge made a tinkling laugh as she said she was afraid Dumbledore had misunderstood the position she was in.

"I'm afraid you've misplaced your soul, but I won't be the one getting it back from the dementor," Remus groused.

"Actually, I heard that if a dementor kissed her, she'd suck out its soul," James stated.

Sirius laughed, the first time he'd really been able to do so when mention of those things had come up.

She again flashed the Order of Dismissal, and her role as High Inquisitor gave her power to fire Trelawney, whom she'd deemed not up to scratch.

Harry waited for Dumbledore's reaction, but he only continued to smile.

"What's he got up his sleeve?" James demanded with sudden eagerness, his kindling of hope finally being given life again Dumbledore would pull through on making this actually somehow better.

Dumbledore did not argue that she had the right to dismiss his teachers, not not to ban them from the grounds, that was still his ruling.

Trelawney tried to cut in through her sobs she would not be somewhere she was not wanted-

but Dumbledore kindly cut in it was his wish for Sybil to remain here with them.

"Ha!" Sirius barked in triumph, all five of them seconds away from pumping the air in victory. "Dumbledore's not going to let Trelawney just walk away from this!"

Harry was still grinning along with the rest of them even as he distantly wondered if Dumbledore had some ulterior motive for this other than just proving a point to Umbridge. He wondered if he was growing paranoid, surely Dumbledore didn't have to have a second reason for doing everything.

He turned and asked McGonagall to escort Sybill back to her lodgings, and McGonagall kindly did so, Sprout hurrying forward to Trelawney's other side. Flitwick came up behind them and enchanted her luggage as the four went back up the stairs.

"I love this place," Remus said wistfully. His best memories had been collected in those walls, and now he was adding another from a time outside his own. He'd never underestimated how lucky he was to even be going there, to be treated like any other student on a daily basis, and now he was getting the fortune of watching the teachers band together for one of their own again. He didn't even pity Umbridge, but continued waiting impatiently for that toad to be ostracized from such a place already, for daring to tamper with such a home for so many.

Umbridge watched all this with a frosty expression, and demanded of him what was to be done with her when the new Divination teacher was appointed and needed lodgings?

"You'd have to put her in that exact place eh?" Sirius said poisonously. "No other bloody room in that grand castle would be good enough, you also need to invade her room!"

"Dumbledore won't let her," James said with conviction once again, even this small win of Dumbledore's against Umbridge had finally restored his lacking faith in his old headmaster.

Dumbledore pleasantly informed that wouldn't be a problem, his new Divination teacher would prefer a ground floor.

"He works fast," Lily said slowly as they all paused in confusion of this. Apparently this had all taken place in less than an hour, which means someone very close to the Minister must have warned Dumbledore this was fixing to go down and the man acted lightning fast in getting a replacement set even before Umbridge had gotten the paper herself. It couldn't have been Percy, but they couldn't think of anyone else who'd know about this and been able to warn Dumbledore in time for him to go fetch, well whoever was getting the new job.

Umbridge shrilly cut in he'd found a new teacher? By Decree number Twenty-two-

Dumbledore cordially said that the amendment was only there if, and only if, the Headmaster was unable to find his own teacher, and on this happy occasion he had succeeded.

All three Marauders burst out laughing, a near euphoric mood at their headmaster pushing such a loophole into that doughy face!

He waved back to the grounds of the school still visible from the left open doors, and offered to introduce him now. Only the soft sound of hooves was warning before half a man stepped into the light, with pale blond hair matching his palomino body on his horse half.

Dumbledore announced this was Firenze.

Harry gave an awkward smile for this announcement amongst the shocked faces. His only memory of the centaur wasn't a particularly fond one even if his life had been saved by him.

"Well, who would have seen that coming?" Sirius blinked in surprise.

"This certainly is, unprecedented," Remus agreed as Sirius passed Harry the book, very obviously keeping it open for his spot with an obvious look at James who didn't get it.

Lily ignored the lot of them. Though happy Trelawney got some kind of win out of this, couldn't help but say, "well considering he once saved Harry's life, let's at least hope he won't pick up on Trelawney's trend of telling Harry he's going to die."

HPHPHPHP

Glory this was an emotionally messy chapter!

#Harry Potter #fanfiction #reading the books #OotP #Marauders #Jilly #James Potter #Lily Potter #Remus Lupin #Sirius Black

[watching-pictures-move]

Movie Review | Blood Shack (Steckler, 1971)

In Joe Bob Briggs' introduction to Blood Shack, he notes that Ray Dennis Steckler was a fan of both Ed Wood and Michelangelo Antonioni. Despite Wood's reputation (and I admit I'm not in his fanclub), it's easy to see what a filmmaker working with such meager budgets might have admired about Wood. Antonioni was a little harder to grasp, based on my prior experience with Steckler, which felt a lot goofier (and not in a bad way) that anything I'd see from the Italian director. Yet his influence is pretty clear in Blood Shack, a slasher in which characters are murdered after setting foot in a shack in a disputed property in the middle of the desert. If Body Fever could be seen as a lower rent version of Jean-Luc Godard's Made in USA, this is a substantially cruder approximation of parts of Zabriskie Point, bringing to mind the Antonioni parody sequences in The Other Side of the Wind, but without the immaculate craftsmanship or formal daring present in the Welles film or in Antonioni's own.

The previous movies I'd seen from Steckler aren't exactly what I'd call tightly constructed, but they do feel relatively busy and loaded with incident. Blood Shack in contrast is stripped down to the barest of narrative essentials, letting the environment do the heavy lifting in setting the mood. The desert is a hostile, barren and under a scorching sun, casting a primordial atmosphere over the inane proceedings. Every couple of minutes somebody, despite being warned otherwise, steps into the shack and soon after gets murdered by the Chooper, a slim male figure in tights wielding a short sword. The Chooper cuts nowhere near an intimidating figure, but I admit the sight of him in broad daylight, his unabashed goofiness unobscured, did generate a certain frisson, if only because of how incongruous he is to his surroundings. This will not be most people's idea of an effective horror movie, but I'm an admirer of the original Friday the 13th for the way it uses its marginal production values to add to the tension, and I think Steckler kind of does the same thing here, if with less potency. The environment also brings to mind The Hills Have Eyes, but Steckler lacks Craven's ferocity.

Were the movie just a cycle of desert sun and murders in tights, it might have worked on an avant garde level, but Steckler grounds this in a story about a woman who inherits the property and fends off an overly aggressive interested party. There's some reference to a decades-old familial dispute and an Indian burial ground, but as you can probably guess, neither is explored with much interest. The woman is played by Carolyn Brandt, who at the time was Steckler's ex-wife, and she plays the role with a certain magnetism even if there isn't a whole lot to her character. She brings some much needed style to the desert, sporting a number of monochrome outfits as well as a pair of stars-and-stripes pants during the climax, nicely complementing the attempted excitement during that scene. In reliable Z-horror fashion she also gets saddled with a few audience-pandering shower scenes, although these are relatively chaste. I assume the divorce was amicable.

Steckler also pads the runtime with footage of the rodeo and particularly a few kids palling around. I watched the 55-minute "director's cut", which I understand excises 15 minutes of additional rodeo footage. Hope the original audiences liked the rodeo, because they would have gotten a lot more than any sane person might ask for. Am I being unfair to the pleasures of the rodeo? As my primary reference point for them is the rodeo scene from Borat, quite possibly. Now, Steckler likely isn't putting in the kids to highlight their innocence in contrast with the bloodletting (a theme perhaps too sophisticated for this movie's narrative interests), but aside from possibly using the production as an excuse for daycare, why does he spend so much time on them? My guess is that he's secretly a big softie and is happy to fill up the movie with kids playing musical chairs (with one chair!), puppies, calves and horsies (including a pony named Peanuts) because he thinks they're cute. Is that so wrong?

#film #movie review #blood shack #ray dennis steckler

[hedgefairy]

Well hello there. While I'm waiting for that breeches video I've been talking about to finally upload, here's

Bridgerton, Episode 4

Phew, half time!

If you've missed the other ones, the tag is Bridgerbore, btw.

Okay, so we start of with Dukey who's going home-ish because drama and heartbreak in the last episode. Stop pretending, nobody takes your pouting seriously! We all know it's twu wuv!

Erm. So, I know, I'm white and this is a delicate matter, but I gotta say I'm not super happy about the whole POC-justifying explanation here. I'd much rather have no explanation at all, it worked perfectly well in Merlin, and this is just as much historically inspired fantasy just with less magic, which I'm honestly quite upset about. I'd be far more okayer with the costumes and overall ugh-ness if there was magic.

But honestly, I'm not a fan of shoehorning that explanation in (it doesn't seem to come up in the books, either, where everyone is basically a baguette in terms of whiteness). The fact that the implications aren't discussed any further makes it even worse. We're talking about the British empire here, and while POC are apparently part of the society (but with more pressure, which... no, this is not how nobility works) the wealth and luxury of this age still stems from the exploitation of POC everywhere else. How isn't there a revolution going on? How is this not talked about? From all I see, Bridgerton is a fluffy, pastel, nice alternate version of the 1800s, and I don't get why anyone would put politics in there instead of just doing what TV tropes refers to as "colourblind casting" and be done with it. Either you do the alternate history thing thoroughly, or you just cast people for being pretty (and maybe good actors) instead of the idea the audience might have about a character's skin colour and have weird costumes and just roll with it.

Also the Queen's marriage seems to suck. I would have liked a deeper, more heartbreaking connection between George III and her, especially because I saw how my Grandmother suffered when she gradually lost my Grandfather to dementia, and it would have been a scene where we could see Charlotte as a person rather than a weird plot device in tafetta and bling, but no, she just seems as annoyed and bored and snappish as ever.

This is getting far too serious. Where's the snark?

We get some Tchaikovsky in the background, which is weird, tbh. Yes, I'm perfectly fine with them covering Top 40s hits and using waltzes from the 1950s, but I draw the line at something from the second half of the 19th century! It's not right! It screams its time of origin all over the place, and even worse, most of the characters would probably actually get to hear it later in their lives, it's not a decent anachronism, it just feels like bad research! This is serious business!

No really, where's the snark?

Oooh, I get it now. That was when I was really, really done with bingeing this show. Yes, I tried to get through as much of it as possible in one sitting. The notes read, in very shaky handwriting

I cannot possibly take more than that

in one day

, so let's continue a few days later when I felt like I could muster the courage to face it again.

So yes, I'm pretty sure this waltz is to young for this show.

Aww, look at that, flirting over cheese! I also like that one of the Featherington girls (I can't really tell the non-Pennys apart) has a suitor, they deserve nice things, too.

The musicians are a mood.

WTF with the hair and the strass. We don't like the strass. Make it go away.

I love Prince Freddy. The poor boy. It's doomed from the start!

Ah, Dukey (also at the ball, even though he was whining about things earlier) gets a heartbeat in the background, because twu wuv.

Middle Bridgerbro goes and meets with the Bohéme. I want more of that! That's finally interesting! That's my people! There's a cool bohemian lady with a pretty dress! People look interesting! Aaaah!

There's a random 18th century burlesque singer at this Regency ball, we need to talk about this. Oooh, it's Opera Girl! Cue Lord B turning into even more of an idiot while Ma Bridgerton tries to hook him up otherwise.

Of course Philippa (that's one of the Featherington Girls) can't possibly have anything nice. Thanks, Dad. You don't get to marry someone you like, that's the people across the street's thing! (by which I of course mean the Bridgertons, just in case anyone forgot the location layout here.)

Eloise is being weird to the housekeeper.

"Are you not supposed to be the smart one", the housekeeper retorts and I'm feeling it, followed by a "WTH, hero" about how servants are too busy to be Gossip Girl, you privileged prat. I think I actually snorted.

Penny gossips with Ducktail Colin, but he's more interested in Cousin, whose dress looks like it was made from the cheap curtains my ex best friend had in his first semester at uni, and God, I hate Daphne's kerchief.

Poor Prince Freddie is trying to propose to Protagonis Girl but of course there's Dukey in the background so she simply must run outside as dramatically as possible where he can find her as she equally dramatically rips the necklace Freddie gave her from her milky white throat. P&P-ish banter ensues. Yawn.

Dukey: * broods *

Daphne: * dramatically exits *

Dukey: * romantically follows her*, and oooh, snogging ensues, oooooh, instant second base, but Bridgerbro the Eldest (known also as Lord B) intervenes.

Lord B: "Marry her!"

Dukey: "I can't!"

Lord B: "Bitch!"

Dukey: "I can't!"

Lord B: "I want satisfaction!"

Me: "Don't we all"

Daphne: "You'd rather die than marry me?!"

(the fuck with her hair)

Middle Bridgerbro is still at the Bohéme-party, and still draws (naked people!). Gay vibes ensue, it's cute. This is Netflix after all, and it took four episodes to get some LGBTQ+ representation!

The Featherington's housekeeper looks a lot like O'Brien from Downton.

Cousin tells Penny about what a cutie Ducktail Colin is, also Penny's "night gown" is really cute (it's not a night gown. She's still wearing stays. It's also the only thing in the whole series that fits her well so far). Penny is super upset but gets interrupted by a hyperfocused Eloise. They fight, and Penny goes on about being mature and not being a "pretty Bridgerton", and that Eloise wouldn't understand. I get her, though, and really, having a perfect family and a "bad" family is such lazy writing.

Somber blah blah between Lord B and Daphne happens and Middle Bridgerbro gets dragged into it. He's informed that his life is pretty much over either way (either way being Lord B dying or being exiled for killing Dukey in the scheduled duel) because his oder bro basically just wants out of his duties. Sucks to be him.

Boxing Bro has to host a frustrated, possibly blueballed Dukey and offers himself up as a second for the duel.

Lord B goes and pleads with Opera Girl to get back with him (doooooon't) because of his little duelling plot and of course intercourse ensues. Girl, where's your self-respect?

Lord F comes into his dark study (we haven't seen much of him yet overall, he probably was too busy gambling) and hark, there's Lady F like the mafia boss I feel she should be, wo berates him about said gambling and that they're broke and how much he sucks. He starts crying, thumbs up for male vulnerability!, but it's kinda played for laughs via her awkward patting of him. Because of course (and I bet the late Daddy Bridgerton would never have lost his composure like that, but he didn't gamble, either, and these are the Featheringtons)

Lord B leaves Opera Girl for THE DUEL (I feel like this almost deserves a ™ by now).

We get gallopping horses! The drama! The panache! Daphne asks Ducktail Colin where it's going down because she wants to stop them, insert pandering feminist ranting about her choosing her own life but I don't really feel it and I wonde where her bangs go when she sleeps because her hair looks so different all of a sudden.

Lord B makes Middle Bridgerbro promise to care for Opera Girl in case he dies.

More gallopping horses! Daphne and her billowing cloak are pretty epic, to be honest, and there's Ducktail Colin on her heels. It's basically a family outing now!

Ugh, I like the seconds in this duel so much more. They should just off and go for a pint or something and leave Lord B and Dukey to their misery.

Duelling protocol ensues. Ten steps, blah blah, nice camera work, though.

Daphne full on rides into her brother's bullet, but she's fine (it would have been so dramatic, can you imagine? It would have been interesting!).

Oh no, they were seen (by her romantic rival, back when they had the dramatic make-outery in the park at the ball after the botched proposal. Sorry, Cressida is such a much better name than Daaaaphneeee. I have a RPG character called Cressida, I might be biased.), she's ruined if they don't marry!. and so she is basically emotionally blackmailing him into marrying her. But he can "never give [her] children!", and goes on how she deserves a household full of love like her family home because the Bridgertons are such a perfect family. God, they all annoy me so much.

Daphne ends the duel by saying that the Duke and her are to be married, with a pained facial expression, no less. I think I just wanna throw a pie in her face or something.

And that concludes Episode 4. That was a long one! Only four more to go! So this is

To be Continued!

Thank you for making it this far with me!

[booasaur]

Genuine question but why are some actors allowed to get away with gay baiting while some aren't? Is it just stan culture and biases?

Oof, that’s a question! Umm, in general or with me? Personally, I’m usually pretty mild about that kind of thing and don’t really ascribe...bad faith intentions in that way, I guess? I feel like it’s part of their job to sell a nice picture and if they make fans happy on the way, as m/f costar romances did, I don’t really see the issue. And that’s if it seems played up at all and not just a genuine good friendship from the start. And the same can be said for a lot of other fans, I’ve never seen a fandom where everyone thinks the same about everything BUT, okay, there can be a majority consensus at a certain point, and I guess that does come down to the big influential fans and as you said, the culture and bias within that fandom. 

I guess if you really want to get into it, it depends what stage the ship and actor friendship is at. If you’re talking about what I think you’re talking about, that’s still very much on its upward trajectory, the same place other ships/friendships were at some previous point in time. People being happy with something for now doesn’t mean they always will be. 

Even the actors you think who didn’t “get away with it” probably were, at some point. As long as things are all right with the ship/fandom, people will generally be happy and tolerant of whatever kind of “baiting” or “pandering” or whatever you want to call it, but I think one of two things happens and the mood turns. Either the ship has a bad end or the actors’ friendship dissolves (publicly, at least) and suddenly fans feel used and manipulated, and embarrassed for it. The more personal and emotional investment there was and the more abrupt the turn, the worse they feel, and that frustration’s gotta go somewhere.

A bunch of factors go into it, smaller fandoms will never really reach the point where they become their own self-contained content and engagement engines, so it’s harder to be as all in for them, which decreases the final disappointment. The further we get, the less inevitable the ship/friendship destruction I mentioned above seems, we’re getting some happy endings now and actors don’t seem to feel the same awkwardness and pressure about being shipped (although it still VERY much depends on the individual). Big name fans encouraging good behavior and moderation around the actors can help from things running away. More ships going on at once stops people from pinning all their hopes on the one. A lot of things. I suppose, at the end of it, fans judge how sincere the actors were, and bad ends tend to color everything that came before, but as long as everything’s all right, the fans are happy with it.

#replies #femslash related stuff #sent on 20200611 #Anonymous #I don't think I've tagged for general meta in ages #fandom meta #I guess

[moon-ruled-rising]

as the rain hides the stars | xii

Read the full story here...

xii: the mustang kids are out

The mustang kids are out,

rolling over hills and the roundabouts.

Black tar, tambourine,

playing for the girls in the back seat

-Zella Day, “Mustang Kids”

Of all the things Westeros had to offer, castles was at the top of that list. Most of the great families in the south abandoned their castles for stylish, sprawling palaces when Queen Jalaesa convinced King Daeron I to demolish the Red Keep. There were still a few that were inhabited, or turned into museums, but none were as impressive as the one she toured with the Queen of the North, Catelyn Stark neé Tully.

After Prince Jon and the King left them, Sansa and Catelyn offered their services to give Dany the official tour. The youngest Stark daughter, Arya, tagged along as well, though she kept a disinterested silence the whole time. 

An intricate pathway of halls connected everywhere so one wouldn’t have to go outside in the winter to get from one place to another, although it was so nice outside that they walked through the courtyard to enjoy the fresh air. There were arches and vaulted ceilings everywhere, the same kind Dany imagined the Red Keep would have if it were still standing. 

They’d shown her the kitchens and then the Godswood, making a point to stop by a red-leaved tree. A carved face with red eyes stared at them over a pool of dark water. A weirwood.

Dany had never seen one in real life. When the Andals came, all the way back in the 10th century, they brought their own religion, the Faith of the Seven. To them, the Weirwoods were symbols of the Old Gods, considered demons and forces of dark magic. It was no surprise they were chopped down throughout the Andal lands. But they never conquered the North.

“All promises and oaths are made before the heart tree here,” Catelyn stated.

Coronations and weddings, Dany knew. It wasn’t where she would have a ceremony but it wasn’t her decision to make.

Catelyn talked for a bit about the hot springs and the way they used the water to heat the castle in the winter. It was a system they’d never needed to fix, she claimed. The group continued on to the glass garden and passed by the crypts and the first keep, heading instead for a large building on the other side.

They stepped through a set of heavy, wooden doors and into what could only be the Great Hall. The ceiling was vaulted to support the heavy chandeliers but still low enough to keep the heat in. The stone walls accented by great arches, the shutters on the windows nestled inside were open to allow the air and light in.

“This is where all of our important feasts take place,” Catelyn explained, motioning toward the length of the hall.

Her eyes settled on the great hearth. The stonework was simple but impressive. Daenerys found the whole castle to be that way. It was so old and yet it continued to withstand harsh winters and winds and rains. She reached a hand out to feel the smooth stone surrounding a window.

“Feasts?” Dany didn’t know people still had those.

“Etiquette, as you know it, is seen as stuffy and Southern. We prefer to be loud and drink until we can’t stand. And the best part is no one cares,” Sansa laughed.

“Quiet evenings with whispers and low music and fine wines are not for North men,” Catelyn agreed.

“But, your majesty,” she addressed the queen, “You’re a Tully. Tully’s are Southern.”

As far as Dany knew, part of the air-tight treaty that required her marriage was that important families were not supposed to intermarry.

“When I met Ned I was studying in Barrowton, same as him. He was second in line for the throne and I was the first child of Hoster Tully, but I was more than happy to give up my Tully name to be his bride. We were already married when his father and brother died in a boating accident so there wasn’t much the Great Lords could do besides let us continue.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,”

“It’s not where we thought our lives would take us but it’s where we ended up. You must be exhausted, let’s find your room.”

Daenerys’ room was across the courtyard, near the old armory turned housing for the permanent court guests. Although it was certainly smaller than her apartments in both Braavos and King’s Landing, it was the closest to living in a fairytale as she would ever come.

The early evening light fell across the room from the arched window on the far side, highlighting the polished paneled walls. A four postered bed with a cream colored duvet took up a good portion of the room and hid most of the rug on the floor. Dany figured it to be a century old. Her luggage rested around the upholstered chairs near the fireplace, the mantle expertly hidden by the same wood paneling with an intricate design etched into it. There was even a dressing screen in the corner, the silk panels painted with faded pastoral scenes.

“It’s a beautiful room,” Dany complimented.

“I’ll leave the girls with you to help you settle. Arya, don’t cause trouble.”

Dany glanced at the youngest Stark, who rolled her eyes. The Queen departed and Dany sat on the edge of the bed.

“I feel like I’ve been living out of my suitcase since I left Braavos,” she remarked.

It struck her how far away that four days felt. So much had happened. Dany felt like a shark, like if she didn’t stay busy she would drown in her emotions.

“What were you doing in Braavos?” Arya asked, breaking her silence.

“School. I lived there for six years until, well…”

“Is it true that there are men who still wear swords and fight in the streets?”

“A Braavo?” Dany stood to begin unpacking. “I’ve never met one, but I’m not usually on the docks that late at night anyway. I have seen street performers do it for tourists though.”

She got through her first set of dress clothes, Sansa being gracious enough to hang them up in the armoire in the corner.

“Are you really going to marry my brother?”

That’s the million dollar question isn't it? Dany asked herself.

“It looks like it.”

“But you don’t love him.”

“I hardly know him,” Dany sighed, “Though, I haven’t been trying very hard to fix that.”

“So why are you agreeing to this?”

“Arya,” Sansa warned, “Sorry, she’s really overprotective of Jon.”

“I’m not over protective. He’s like my best friend, and friends look out for each other.”

The last thing Dany wanted was an interrogation but it appeared Arya intended on bringing the heat.

“It’s fine. Your country needs help, my brother thinks I’m the best way to do that. And the Crown comes before your personal life, always.”

“He told me you’re a raging bitch.”

Dany’s hand tightened around the folded shirts she was holding. She did feel regretful about her and Jon’s first meeting. There were so many raw emotions bubbling inside her and without the proper time to process them, she reacted poorly.

“That tends to be the impression I make,” she responded, setting the shirts into a drawer.

“If I’m being honest, it’s so much easier for people to assume you’re going to be mean and cold to them than to deal with panderers and pretenders. And it hurts less when you’re criticized because you know that it’s not really you.” 

Arya was young, sixteen. It was an age of life changing events. Dany was the same age when Viserys died and she lost her father soon after.

“You went to university for six years and now you’re going to get married to a man you don’t know?”

“When I decided to go to college, I knew that I would never have a normal people job. I could have renounced my titles and name but without ‘Targaryen’ behind Daenerys, I would have nothing. My brother would have me blacklisted I’m sure.”

“That sounds like a harsh punishment for doing what you want,” Sansa pointed out.

“Rhaegar and I have a complicated relationship. And our family values and reputation don’t make it easier. Besides, being a Targaryen is all I know, I couldn’t be something else if I tried.”

“Well, you’ll just have to learn how to be a Stark,” Sansa confirmed as she placed a pair of shoes at the bottom of the armoire.

“I think it’ll be rather hard for a dragon to pretend to be a wolf,” Dany scoffed. 

“Not if the dragon has the right wolves to teach her,” Arya offered, a smirk on her face.

Dany gave her a soft smile in acceptance of her offer. They talked of other things, Dany taking the chance to get to know the other Stark sister better. She learned that Arya loved archery and knife throwing (and was well accomplished in both fields). She wanted to be a painter and computer programmer, actress and sailor, the list went on. And she and Bran had the best pranks in the whole family. It was then that Dany decided she would need to stay on Arya’s good side.

Arya and Sansa invited her to see their rooms, located near the Great Keep. Dany agreed and finally changed out of her dress clothes. She was glad she did as the air in the courtyard was colder now.

“The sun’s going down,” Arya noted after a while.

“Then we’d better get going if we want to be there by sunset,” Sansa stated

“Bran said that everyone else is heading to the garage.”

“Tell him we’re on our way.”

“On your way where?” Dany couldn’t help herself, she was intrigued.

Sansa looked at her younger sister, who looked hesitant. It was obvious they were going somewhere but Dany hadn’t seen anything besides nature and the deserted Wintertown.

“Sansa, no.”

“She’s going to live here, she might as well know what we do for fun,” Sansa egged.

Arya glanced at her phone again, which buzzed with a notification.

“Jon’s going to be pissed.”

“Jon has been in a mood since he was born.”

More buzzing from the young princess’ phone.

“Alright, fine, but only because I don’t want to keep anyone waiting.”

She followed the princesses to another building on the west side of the castle with several large garage doors, all of them open. Dany couldn’t hide her surprise to see several luxury cars lined up like toys inside of a cubby. They were older models, she noticed, but not so old that they looked outdated.

“What did you expect? Horses?” Arya demanded in a joking manner, crossing her arms over her chest.

“How backward do you think we are?” Sansa joined.

Dany opened her mouth to respond when a voice from inside the garage stopped her.

“What the hell is she doing here?”

Dany’s stomach sank as an unusual anxiousness came over her. Prince Jon was leaned against a sleek, all black Volantene sports car, a cigarette hanging from his lips. It was the most casual and relaxed she’d ever seen him look. Sweatpants, athletic sneakers, and a fitted tee. His dark curls pulled back into a bun at the nape of his neck.

“Don’t look at me. It was Sansa’s idea,” Arya threw her hands up in surrender.

“What were we supposed to do, leave her in her room all night? She’s a guest.”

Jon looked at Dany, she knew he saw how lost and out of place she looked. And she hated it. 

“I don’t care, as long as she’s not in my car,” he decided.

“When did you start smoking again?” Sansa inquired as she walked past.

“In light of recent events, I’ve decided to pick up the habit.”

Without much more protest, they arranged themselves in the small fleet of cars. Dany rode with Sansa in her little red Myrish convertible, the top already down. Sansa stated that it was meant for racing but she loved it so much, she didn’t care. Talisa joined them, citing that she preferred Sansa’s driving over Robb’s.

They set out towards their destination on an old dirt road that hadn’t been maintained in years with Sansa definitely driving over the speed limit. Dany let the cool night air wash over her. She’d been in convertibles before, of course, but never going this fast. Her hair whipped around her and she could hardly see with the draft bombarding her eyes. It was unglamorous but Dany felt free. Like her troubles weren’t so close behind.

As she wrangled her hair back into the spare elastic she brought she posed a question to Sansa, “Where are we headed exactly?”

“It’s a surprise but I promise, you’re going to love it.”

She cast a glance at Talisa in the backseat, who only flashed her a sweet smile. The song from Sansa’s curated driving playlist switched and the woman’s eyes lit up, her sweet smile taking on a manic twist.

“Oo, this is my favorite song. Sansa, turn it up!”

Sansa reached down for the volume thobe and turned the already loud music higher. The thumping bass line and breathy vocals surrounding them like the background track in a movie. Talisa unbuckled her seat belt and stood up, the increased wind around her tearing at her hair and clothes as she screamed the lyrics into it. 

“Dany, come dance with me,” Talisa called down.

She winced at the over-familiarity, then had to remind herself that Talisa wasn’t from royal blood. She was only trying to be nice. Dany wasn’t sure that moving around in a speeding car was a good idea, but then again, she rarely listened to reason.

She unbuckled herself and twisted around in her seat, accepting Talisa’s outstretched hand. As she did, she noted an anchor tattoo with a broken chain peeking out from under her stack of bracelets. Dany wished she could have such a visible tattoo.

She convinced herself that she would get one on her eighteenth birthday. She made an appointment with a high end tattoo artist in the New City, formulated an excuse for being out when she got it done, and even tried on every swimsuit she owned to find the right spot for the design to go. The valyrian word for dragon fire, dracarys, was inked into her hip and so far, she’d never been caught.

Dany shouted an apology to Sansa as she climbed between the front seats to stand at the back with Talisa. Her feet felt unstable on the cushioned seats but the young woman beside her kept her steady as they swayed like complete idiots against the forceful wind. 

“I’ve been hearing all these things about you, creeping into all the things that I do. I’ve been hearing all these things about you, about you, about you!” Talisa sang before turning to blow a kiss to Robb in the car behind them. 

Dany wished she could see through the dark tinted windshield. To see both the Princes’ reactions to their recklessness. 

The destination in question was a flat tract of land not too far away from Winterfell. The green grass rose up around the road as it wound around a group of trees and disappeared into the distance.

Dany was still hung up on the luxury cars. She hadn’t expected the Starks to be holy as septons but even the Targaryen’s didn’t have such nice vehicles. Dany wasn’t even allowed to drive the town cars around King’s Landing and yet these well-behaved Royals were racing around the countryside.

Talisa set out a large blanket for the spectators. Dany settled next to her while Arya and Bran flipped a coin to decide who was going first.

“What do you think of the North so far?” Talisa asked.

“It’s surprised me, that’s for sure.” Dany chuckled as she combed her fingers through her wind tangled hair. “How long have you lived here?”

“I moved here from Volantis to study at Barrowton.”

“I’ve been to Volantis, it’s a beautiful city.”

“Beautiful to visit, terrible to live in,” Talisa commented.

“I know what you mean.”

“Is King’s Landing that bad?”

“Of course. If I wanted to smell garbage and horse shit every day, I would like in the palace stables,” Dany laughed as she tied off her braid.

“Bran’s going first against Robb,” Theon announced. 

Talisa rolled her eyes, “Poor Bran, Robb never loses.”

“Never?” Dany asked in disbelief.

“Never,” Theon answered, “It’s kind of annoying.”

“You’re just jealous because he always picks Jon as his co-pilot,” teased Talisa before turning her attention on Dany, “Sansa tells me you're engaged to our sweet prince.”

“I haven’t said yes yet.”

“Will you?”

“I’m not sure. I have to make the decision by the end of the month, and I broke up with my previous… whatever we were to be here. Something is keeping me from saying yes,” Dany admitted.

“Well, Jon acts like a lone wolf but he’s a huge softy.”

“Really?” Dany asked in disbelief.

“Oh, yeah. I blame Cat for his being so sullen all the time,” Talisa lowered her voice.

“The Queen? But she acted so nice when she showed me around Winterfell today.”

“She’s been awful to Jon since I can remember. I heard she calls him ‘the constant reminder of my husband’s infidelity’. Imagine living with that woman taking her anger out on you for no reason. And I’ve seen her mad, it’s not fun.”

Dany looked over to where the two cars were waiting, Jon leaning through the window to talk to Bran. He ruffled his brother’s hair, a beaming smile on his face, before climbing back into Robb’s car.

 “I had no idea,” she whispered. 

She recalled the night they first met, when he said that he understood what it felt like to be whispered about and called names he didn’t deserve.

“How could you? It’s not something he willingly talks about,” Theon …

“I figured but still, it’s no way to live.”

The sound of revving engines drew their attention back to the dirt road. Sansa stood between the two cars with all the grace and dignity of a military commander. Instead of a sword, she held a small version of the Stark banners that hung on the walls of Winterfell.

As she dropped her arms, the banner fluttered with them. And they were off. As they disappeared from view in a cloud of dust. Talisa assured her that they would be back soon and that the races never took long. 

And she was right. They were back before Dany knew it and, as predicted, Robb won. Arya and Bran argued about something as they approached. 

“How about we let our guest have a turn?” Robb said with enough challenge in his voice that Dany considered his offer before anything else was said.

“You can go against Theon, that’s an easy win.”

Theon rolled his eyes, “Like hell. Just race with Robb and get it over with.”

“I’ll be your co-pilot,” Arya offered, “But only because I want to beat Robb.”

“I don’t know. I’m not a good driver,” Dany deflected, shaking her head lightly. Better to avoid an embarrassing scene.

“And you think any of us are?” Arya asked, her siblings joining in her laughter.

“The best way to learn to be a wolf, is to run with them,” Sansa whispered in her ear.

All eyes were on Dany as though this were her final judgement. 

“Alright,” she looked Robb dead in the eyes, “You’re on.”

She used Sansa’s car, although she was still apprehensive about the fact that there was no top. Arya settled into the passenger seat and was utterly engrossed in something on her phone. 

Dany had to admit she was nervous. In all her years, she’d never driven a car at such high speeds. I am the blood of the dragon, she reminded herself, Dragon’s fear nothing. She took a deep breath and tightened her hands on the wheel.

Sansa returned to her place in front of them, the same Stark banner in her hands. Dany kept her eyes fixed on the fabric, revving the engine hoping to give herself more confidence. 

As soon as Sansa dropped her arms, Dany’s foot turned to lead. The little car managed to stay neck and neck with the far superior sports model.

“Hey co-pilot, do you have a strategy?” she called over the noise of the wind and engines.

“I have a secret weapon but winning requires you to get in front of them first,” Arya shouted back, looking to the right where her brothers were keeping steady.

Dany cursed under her breath before pressing her foot down. They only gained an inch on the other.

“On second thought, fall back!” Arya announced.

She bit back the protest and took her foot off the gas. As Robb sped past, Arya commanded that Dany hang a right.

“What, why?”

“Because I said so! Now do it!”

Dany was ashamed of the scream she let out as the car wheeled around the sharp bend but it dissolved into a fit of laughter as she reinforced her foot’s weight on the gas pedal. It gained her a strange look from the Stark girl next to her but they were soon laughing together.

“You’re absolutely crazy,” Dany shouted.

“I know!” 

They lost their race but as Robb celebrated his latest victory, Dany found that she had yet another Stark ally. Maybe she wasn’t as alone in the Northern court as she thought.

#jonerys #jon snow x daenerys targaryen #ao3 #jonerysfanfic #jonerysfanfiction #ao3 link

[blog-sliverofjade]

Hearth Fires 12: Chiaroscuro

Pairing: Remi Denier x OFC

Summary:  Lorel Maddox just wants to live as a human, run her bakery in peace, and forget. Unfortunately, the alpha of the local leopard pack has very different ideas.

Remi Denier doesn’t know what to make of the female Changeling who wants nothing to do with him or the RainFire pack. He does know that he has a driving need to protect her. Even if it’s from herself.

While they’re embroiled in a battle of wills, there’s a war brewing on the horizon. The outside threat could not only destroy everything they hold dear, but tear apart the fragile new bonds of the Trinity Accord, plunging the world into bloodshed to rival the Territorial Wars of centuries past.

Word count: 2138

Content warning:  Content warning for references to child abuse and overtly racist cops.  Bear in mind that it was already written into the plot before 2020 happened.

Hearth Fires Masterlist

Beta read by the brilliant pandabearer

“I am disheartened by this reprehensible act against two of our citizens.  We do not condone hatred, bigotry, racism, or intolerance of any kind here.  I hope this brings us together as a community.”

         -Narinder Rao, Bryson City Mayor

         The sheriff was trying to play dominance games with an alpha.  He left Remi cooling his heels in the waiting area for ten minutes despite the fact he’d arrived promptly for their scheduled meeting.  Shaw had tried to avoid him outright, but Remi pulled the media card and he relented immediately; he’d won his position by a scant margin and didn’t have the political clout to withstand a media frenzy.  If he still refused to play ball after this, well, Remi still had a few more cards up his sleeve.

         Several deputies seemed to have important business in the front office while he waited.  While he wasn’t in the mood to play, RainFire needed to cultivate as much rapport with Enforcement as possible.  So he donned his easy-going demeanour like the well-worn armour that it was and flirted and charmed while not promising anything.

         “Mr. Denier,” Shaw called, noticeably irritated he had to come in person since his receptionist was currently slipping his phone number into Remi’s hand.  He’d scented the other man before he spoke, of course, but there was no need to be rude to the young psy in front of him who was obviously inexperienced in flirting.

         “À plus tard, cher,” he winked, tucking the slip of paper into a pocket to dispose of later.  Red flagged the younger man’s cheeks and he ducked past his boss to make his way back to his desk.

         The sheriff’s polite smile was strained as Remi sauntered over to him; he made sure to keep the leopard in his line of sight as they walked back to his office in silence.  Stale coffee and the maelstrom of dozens of people assaulted his senses.

         “I always wondered, what made you decide to come here?” Shaw asked, southern accent thick, as Remi settled in one of the two chairs facing his desk.  He stifled the urge to bare his teeth in annoyance at the small talk when all the animal wanted to do was tear out the throat of its enemy.  It was too uncivilized to bother with social niceties, especially when it saw the man as a threat to be eliminated

         “It was what was available for a new pack,” he shrugged, seeing no need for prevarication.  The information was out there for anyone who cared enough to look, and he had a feeling the Sheriff had done his homework.  There was more to the process, of course, but that was the bare bones of it.

         “Doesn’t seem right that the good folk of this county don’t get a say in a pack of predators moving in,” Shaw feigned bewilderment and shook his head, light glinting off a pate shaved to hide the fact he was mostly bald.  “It would’ve been better for everyone if we’d all stayed in our own lanes.  Nothing good ever came of pandering to the other races.”

         “Talk to your Trinity representative about that,” he said flatly.  “Now that the pleasantries are out of the way, where are you at in the investigation into the assault that occurred outside Acapella two nights ago?”

         “Mr. Denier-”

         “Alpha,” he corrected.  “My proper title is ‘alpha’.”

         “Alpha Denier, it’s still the early stages.”  In a false display of sympathy, Shaw leaned forward to loosely weave his thick fingers together on top of the desk.  “We have no fingerprints, no DNA, no witnesses, and no suspects.  You must understand that we have limited resources and an inquest would require much of that with very little chance of success.”  Shaw spread his hands as if in remorse.

         “DNA evidence was taken at the hospital.”  What he didn’t say was that the pack had taken their own samples, while theirs wasn’t admissible in court, there was still a chance that it would help identify the assailants for some extra-judicial justice.

         “The hospital didn’t have a protocol for preserving evidence, no need for it before you people moved here.  The samples weren’t logged properly and got destroyed.  A damn shame, but I’ve been assured they’re remedying the situation.”  It didn’t take the nose of a changeling to tell that Shaw was lying, he didn’t bother to hide his smugness at stonewalling Remi.

         “RainFire offers its assistance in the investigation.”

         “You don’t have the authority.”  The flat rejection was no less than what Remi had expected.

         “One of the survivors is changeling, therefore changeling laws apply should RainFire choose to exercise our rights.”  What went unsaid was that changeling justice was swift, brutal, and brooked no interference.

         “Forgive me if I doubt you’n’s impartiality.”  The smirk that had been dancing in the human’s eyes died, leaving them flint hard.

         “Local Enforcement leadership has already proven its own lack in that area.”

         A vein in the officer’s forehead throbbed as his blood pressure and heart rate increased.  The cat wondered how hot the blood would be, how far it would gush if it sank its teeth into the human’s carotid arteries.  The temptation to allow the leopard to surface was callow, yet strong, and completely unnecessary.  Fear filled the office, hovering beneath the thick cologne Shaw wore.  He wondered if the sheriff’s sense of smell was dulled or if he thought the cloying concoction would hide his reactions from Remi.  It might have worked against a changeling who hadn’t grown up surrounded by the stink of constant fear, but the acrid bite was etched too indelibly in his memory.

         “It’s becoming increasingly clear that local Enforcement’s reluctant to protect the changeling community but is more than willing to police it.  RainFire will respond to any attack on changelings or humans with changeling affiliations within the area we have claimed.”  Remi let the leopard rise in his eyes, not enough to change his pupils, just enough to remind Shaw he was right to be afraid.

         “I won’t tolerate a witch hunt.”  The sheriff gave his best imitation of a snarl.

         “Nor will we.”  The leopard’s growl was genuine.

         Whenever Lorel found herself in need of parental advice, she inevitably called her aunt.  Maternal, of course, since she only knew her father’s name and that of his now-defunct pack.  Even though her grandparents raised her, calling them was out of the question, unless she felt like a lecture and shame; in her experience, there was no such thing as unconditional love.  No, what she needed was a calm perspective from someone who wanted the best for her.

         Pacing the living room while the call went through, she rubbed her palms up and down her arms.  There was a strange buzzing under her skin.  All the feelings and sensations bouncing around in her head drove out what she intended to say by the time her aunt Nora answered.  What came out instead was peevish.

         “Did you know that RainFire intended to expand their territory?”

         “Sorry… you… breaking… up.”  Her aunt’s words came haltingly even though there was no interruption in the video itself.  Lorel could still make out every coil of hair that was so like her own, albeit auburn compared to her copper, glowing in the Australian sunlight.  The vague, pastel memories of her mother showed in the older woman like ghosts.  Her childhood impressions of her mom were of someone a little less colourful, gentler, but with the same mass of curls.  The familiar sight seemed to chase back the gloom of early evening filling the corners of her own living room.

         “Static hasn’t been an issue for nearly fifty years.”  Not since the psy had invested in international telecommunications infrastructure.

         “Yes, I did know, and I knew you wouldn’t have taken over the bakery if I told you.  You deserve to-” she sighed and held up her hands, apparently at a loss for words.  “To be whole.”

         “I’m fine,” snapped Lorel.  “What I don’t need is a pack of leopards threatening to kill me for the crime of living where they want to stake a claim.”

         “What you need is something you’ve never been given,” she replied evenly.  “And I’m partly to blame for that.  I should have done more.”  At that, Lorel swallowed the acerbic words on her tongue.

         “We’ve been over this: you’re barely fifteen years older than I am and were in college halfway around the world,” she reminded her aunt with as much gentleness as she could summon.  “Speaking of which, how are your classes going?”

         “Harder than I remember, but I’m enjoying it so far.  Nice attempt at changing the subject, though.”  She wagged a finger at her niece, who pretended to be abashed.  “Give them a chance, Lolo.  If it’s not what you need, my cousin’s still willing to buy you out, but at least you’ll know.”  Unable to look into a face filled with such tender love and concern, Lorel hugged herself and looked down at her feet.

         “Besides, some of those cats are drop-dead gorgeous.”

         “Aunt Nora!” she snapped her head up to gape at the other woman.

         “I’m old, not dead!”  Laughter lit up her entire being, wrapping around Lorel like a warm hug, and she couldn’t help but smile along with her even as she shook her head in fond exasperation.  While she was on the edge of forty, her aunt could be- and had been- mistaken for her sister, and certainly young enough to be studying for a second career as a marine biologist.

         “I love you, Lolo, and I know you wouldn’t have taken this risk on your own.”

         “Yeah, who wouldn’t want to risk death threats?”  Lorel unfolded one arm to wave her hand in a flippantly sarcastic gesture.

         “You have choices: give the leopards a chance or sell to Marselo.”  Her harsh, no-nonsense tone had Lorel twisting her face into a moue of distaste.  Sometimes she wondered how Nora and Klaudia Maddox could possibly be related, but then, when least expected, her aunt revealed a spine of pure steel and the family resemblance was undeniable.

         “You didn’t even want SweetCheeks, something about moving to Hicksville, Nowhere?  I had to guilt you into it.”  The older woman’s insistence had seemed strange at the time but made sense now that Lorel knew what her ulterior motives were.

         “Yeah, well, I like it so far,” she admitted begrudgingly, burrowing her bare toes into the Aegean blue area rug.  “You built up a good business.”

         “Damn straight,” Nora sniffed with obvious pride.  “So, you better take good care of it, ya hear?”

         “Yeah, yeah, love you, too.”  She rolled her eyes and thrust both hands into her hair.  “They’re dangerous, No-No.”

         “You’ve survived things that would break other people.  I know you were taught to fear them,” a shadow of remorse crossed her face, “but my money’s on you.”

         “What if I can’t?”  The question was a whisper because she couldn’t speak past the knot in her throat.

         “What if you can?  Imagine what you’d be capable of.”  The strength of her aunt’s love and confidence in her was still a kick to the heart and she’d always regret not confiding in the other woman when she was younger.  Nora had fluttered like a vibrant butterfly at the edges of her youth; shame and a twisted sense of protection had kept Lorel from reaching out to her sooner, she didn't want her spirited aunt to put her life on hold for Lorel's sake.  What support Nora could provide, no matter where she was in the world, had gotten her through some of her toughest years.  As an adult, she soaked in as much of Nora's love as she could, and tried to return it as best she knew how.  “I have to go, I have a date with some algae.  Let me know what you decide.”

         “I will.  I love you, No-No.”  She kissed two fingers and pressed them to the comm screen.

         “Love you, too, Lolo.”  Her aunt mirrored the gesture on her end before they both hung up.

         Twilight seemed to rush back into the room once the screen went blank; for once, she didn’t bother turning on a light and allowed the shadows to envelop her.  It wasn’t fully dark to her eyes, never had been, yet she still kept nightlights around the house; a childish habit Nora had never ridiculed her for, seeming to understand without words why an adult changeling would fear the night.

         “We are all sons of light and sons of day. We are not of night nor of darkness.”  Her grandfather’s voice echoed in her head, accompanied by the remembered pain of sudden light on her sensitive eyes.  “Why are you sitting in the dark?  What are you trying to hide?”

         Maybe it was time to stop hiding.

#my writing #fan fiction #psy changeling #nalini singh #remi denier #original female character #science fiction #racism #fan fic #psy changeling trinity #shapeshifter #fan-fic #sci-fi #fat character #racists #fantasy racism #sci fi #fan-fiction #shape shifter #psy #changeling #cops #police #shifter romance #eventual romance #eventual smut #paranormal romance #fanfic #plus-sized character #bakery

[zodiacal-dust-and-curls]

A Day In

A/N: Thank you to @unbound-chaos for sending in the request! Sorry for the wait!!! Roger is next and he's my last 500 blurb. Thank you to @rogers-wristbands for proofreading. Enjoy! 🖤

Warnings: this is definitely hurt/comfort. But idk how to explain it beyond that. Let me know if you feel a tag should be added here!

Word Count: 1.2k

You'd been feeling a little useless lately.

Well, not useless, that wasn't right. You were productive at work, getting compliments from your boss and even having part of your work published in a major project. Useless wasn't quite the word.

Ben had been very busy with filming lately, leaving you and Frankie to each other at home. You loved little Frankie, but something was just missing.

It was Ben. It felt like he was always missing lately. Busy filming meant being away from you, far away unfortunately. Filming on location in another country.

He'd called every night to talk to his best girls, but a tired voice on the phone wasn't a replacement for him. You missed his presence, the knit ghost that haunted the flat, the leaden weight that kept your bed warm. Life wasn't the same at the moment.

After 3 weeks of calls, texts, and snaps, you were feeling pretty worn down. Everything was going right at work, nothing was amiss with your family. You were just . . . off.

You'd taken to spending nights in, eating whatever you prepped on Sunday, and only leaving to walk Frankie. It felt a little like a sad excuse for an existence, but it was all you could motivate yourself to do for the last several weeks.

Ben had started to pick up on it, roughly 6 weeks after he'd left. He may have been away, but the man wasn't dense. You always sounded tired. You weren't snapping him back with pictures of your face. If you did, the smile wasn't quite right. You always told him everything was fine.

"How was work today, love?" He was excited to remember that you had a big meeting today. It had been scheduled before he left and he knew it was important to you and your job.

"It was fine." No, that didn't sound right to him. You would have told him if you crushed it or fell completely flat. Fine didn't cut it on days like today.

"I thought you had that big presentation today?"

"I did. It went fine." He could hear someone huffing as they repositioned themselves in your lap. If Frankie felt the need to be that close all the time, something was definitely up.

"Alright, love. Do you want to tell me how it turned out?" He was going to pander for these answers if it killed him. Clearly you needed something. Maybe his work was finally taking a toll on you?

"Sure. My boss liked the data I compiled. It's going to be presented internationally." There was still something missing from your voice, but he'd take the answer.

"That's spectacular. I'm so proud of you."

But everything wasn't fine.

All your friends were busy with work, kids, or partners and you didn't get to see them often. You felt like you were out on your own little island. Just you and Frankie, set to suffer another few weeks.

Twelve weeks after Ben had flown to set, you found yourself in a particularly crappy mood. You'd cashed in a personal day just so you didn't have to move past the couch. Loneliness was a terrible look on you.

Luckily, Frankie was feeling the same. She wasn't begging for a walk or even to play with her toys. She'd just curled up next to you in solidarity.

Some time after your second "feel good" movie, which wasn't working honestly, your phone rang out with Ben's song. (I'm In Love With My Car, obviously)

"Hello, love. How's work?" He sounded chipper. Maybe something good happened on set today.

"I didn't go in today. Not feeling my best." You were still firmly planted on the couch in a pair of his shorts and your comfiest shirt. Full on wallow mode.

"I'm sorry, love." He did sound upset. Poor thing. "But I think I know something that will make you feel better."

Just then the front door opened and Frankie burst from her spot next to you.

"Frankster!" That voice was awfully familiar and about 3 weeks early. "I've missed you so much. But where's our girl? Where is she hiding?"

You could have burst into tears. He was home, early. You stood up to walk to the door, but he beat you by making his way into the living room.

"There you are." He quickly closed the distance between you and pressed you to his chest. "I have missed you so much, my love."

You would've responded in kind but now you had actually started crying. You'd done your best to stay busy for the last 3 months. Work was in a great spot, you'd seen a few of your friends for dinner, Frankie had regular walks and outings, but home was always so empty and quiet. Having Ben back was like a splash of color in your slowly graying world. You'd missed him desperately. You always prided yourself on being an independent woman and not being defined by your relationships, but sometimes the relief of your loved ones being near was just needed.

"Hey, love, hey." Ben was pushing hair out of your face and wiping away as many tears as he could with his thumbs.

You looked at him through your tears and saw wrinkled brows. He was always so concerned when you cried, but did his best to either rectify the situation or just hold you through it.

"I'm sorry." It was the only thing you say to him. You were sorry for being a mess, you were sorry tears were the first thing he got when he came home.

"It's okay." He pressed a kiss to your forehead. "It's okay. Three months is far too long." Ben had started to push the two of you onto the couch, back to your pile of blankets.

After holding you for a few minutes, enough time to calm you down, he started to move around.

"Where do you think you're going?" He had started to get up from the little nest you had reconstructed in roughly 30 seconds.

"I think I'm going to put on sweatpants for a nice day in." He said it so matter-of-factly you almost let him go.

Instead you threw his shorts at him and said, "Or, no one wears pants and we both stay right here?"

His face lit up with a smile, nose and eyes crinkling in your favorite way. "You drive a hard bargain." He slipped off his jeans and jacket so that he stood before you in just his boxer briefs and a t shirt, bathed in the golden sunlight of the afternoon. "Move over."

You happily wiggled to the side so he could rejoin you in the nest.

"So . . ." You hated to do this because he just sat down, but you'd been wallowing all day, which meant you hadn't eaten.

He just watched you, eyebrow cocked, waiting for what could make you hesitate.

"What do you wanna do for lunch?"

He let out his booming, baritone laugh. Of course food would be your only motivation to put a pause on the cuddle-fest that had just begun.

"Take out?" He offered once his chuckles subsided.

You nodded enthusiastically to agree. Then neither of you had to move until it got here. "Roshambo for who has to answer the door?" You offered sheepishly.

Ben just gave a quick nod before pulling out his phone.

"Let's find something good, yeah?" Then he pulled you into his side so you could both stare at the options on the screen.

Once you'd settled, he pressed another kiss to your hairline. Today was going to be a great day with your love tucked in next to you.

A/N: I'd love feedback! Drop a comment or an ask if you liked it. 🖤 the secret code word is Roshambo (a ridiculous way of saying Rock-Paper-Scissors, but it's fun to say!)

Tag List: @rogers-wristbands @deakydeckme @bitemerog

I think that's everyone! If you'd like to be added, send a message/ask!

#ben hardy #ben hardy fluff #ben hardy fanfic #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy x reader #t writes #a day in

[mexicancat-girl]

Another for @bnhawlwweek! Day 2 Prompt: Clothing: Swimsuits

Fuyumi Todoroki/Miruko (Rumi Usagiyama)

ao3: link

It’s ridiculous that Rumi’s so nervous right now. Really. It is.

 She’s used to wearing stuff that shows off a lot of skin. A swimsuit should be no different.

 She runs around every day in a leotard as her hero costume, after all. She’s out there in the world as Pro Hero Miruko, wearing what is essentially a swimsuit while she literally kicks people’s asses, because the higher-ups and the public wouldn’t consider her ‘viable’ enough as a heroine without showing off a little skin.

 “You’re not feminine enough, Miruko.”

 “You’re too muscular, Miruko.”

 “You’ll never get popular, Miruko.”

It’s all a fucking ridiculous balancing act, honestly. If she shows off too much skin she’s ‘inappropriate’ and a slut, but if she doesn’t show off enough skin she won’t win popularity polls because she’s not playing the fanservice card like it’s expected for most female heroines.

 And then there’s her ‘abrasive and mannish personality’, which apparently also doesn’t do her any wonders.

 “You need to smile more, Miruko.”

 “You’re too violent Miruko.”

 “Your merch sales are down, Miruko.”

 Rumi takes in a breath and lets it out, counting down from ten just like her anger management specialist told her to do time and time again.

 Thinking about her managers and the sleaze-balls in charge of the hero system will only piss her the fuck off. Thinking about the misogynistic fuckwads that she has to save on a regularly basis and pander to for her to keep her ranking will make her want to punch a wall.

 She has to keep calm. She can’t step out of the changing room wanting to kill a man. She’s on a date. She’s wearing a swimsuit. She’s going to go swimming and flirt with her girlfriend, and then maybe buy a piña colada if she’s feeling too restless before realizing that she’s more partial to margaritas, downing both of them because she doesn’t want to waste the drinks.

 Yeah. Okay. Alright.

 She can do this.

 Rumi slowly opens the dressing room door, taking a cautionary peak out.

 Fuyumi is standing right outside. Abort, abort!

 She squeaks and instantly shuts the door again, heart jackrabbiting her chest and face flushing hot because oh God, she can’t do this.

 Especially after catching a glimpse of her girlfriend in her swimsuit. Just. God. God, she’s so fucking gay, and such a huge fucking disaster.

 Fuyumi was wearing a one-piece swimsuit. White and simple, with red trim, a red ribbon acting as a halter top to keep everything in place and modest.

 It was the most gorgeous sight Rumi’s ever laid eyes on in her entire life, she’s sure. Like. 1000% sure.

 With a groan, she puts her hands on her warm cheeks and tries very, very hard not to melt into a puddle of goo.

 “Rumi-chan…?” Fuyumi’s voice drifts through the wooden door, sounding so sweetly concerned it should be illegal. If it was illegal, Rumi would have to arrest her on the spot, and—yeah, no, her brain’s going down the drain fast. Abort.

 She tries to reply, but all that gets out is a strangled noise that sounds like a dying rabbit, which wow if that ain’t a huge Mood…

 “Rumi-chan, are you okay in there?” Fuyumi asks once more through the door, tapping it lightly in a knock. “Are you having trouble with your swimsuit…?”

 “No!” Rumi squeaks out, just a bit panicked. Oh fuck, she’s made her girlfriend worries now. Shit. “I-I’m fine! It’s fine! Everything’s fine! Ahahaha…”

 Gah, it’s so obvious she’s not fine! Christ, she’s such a bad actor! It’s no wonder she barely gets into commercials nowadays, much less any huge roles in TV or movies! Ugh.

 “Are your clothes damaged? Did a seam rip?” And now Fuyumi sounds a little panicked and frantic. “That’d be awful! It’s no wonder you don’t want to leave the changing room. I-I could get you an extra set of clothes, if you need it—”

 “I don’t—it’s fine, nothing’s ripped!” Rumi reassures her quickly, still feeling flustered, but not wanting her girlfriend to panic and worry even more. It must be her heroic instincts kicking in, even with a situation as ridiculously mundane as this.

 Though, it’s admittedly a little dumb that she’s being so chicken-shit, hiding and talk-yelling through the changing room door…

 Aw, fuck it. She’s gotta have to put her big girl panties on and just. Open the door. And let her girlfriend see her in her swimsuit.

 Her very frilly, sorta tacky swimsuit that she’d decided was a good idea to buy two weeks ago and is still sort of regretting.

 Rumi crosses her fingers behind her back for good luck, hoping she looks less dumb than she feels, and opens the changing room door.

 It almost takes her aback, seeing Fuyumi right in front of her in all her gorgeous ice sculpture-esque glory. Fuyumi blinks back at her, seemingly equally as stunned and startled.

 Her girlfriend’s hair is pulled back in a little ponytail with a red ribbon matching her swimsuit. And it takes Rumi a hot second, but to her astonishment, she notes that Fuyumi has hairclips in her hair.

 Little bunny hairclips.

 Rumi has to stop herself from clutching at her chest as the realization hits because oh my God, her girlfriend is so fucking adorable.

 “B-Bunnies?” Rumi squeaks out, cheeks aflame as she spastically gestures at her own temples, emulating where Fuyumi’s hairclips sit.

 Fuyumi’s already pink cheeks flush into a deeper pink as her hands fly up to said hairclips. “I-I, um…It’s—it’s going to sound so stupid, but, I…” clearly hesitating, she finally stutters out, “N-Never mind!”

 “They’re cute!” Rumi blurts out, voice way too loud in her effort to assuage her girlfriend’s worries. Clearing her throat, she forces herself back into a normal volume. “I mean, er…They’re…I like ‘em, is all.”

 Fuyumi’s embarrassed grimace wavers and is quickly replaced by a shy smile. “Oh! Um. Do you really…?”

 “Yeah. Yeah, they really suit ya,” Rumi says with a cough, awkward and trying to push through it. She was going to compliment her girlfriend, damn it, and her own terrible social skills weren’t gonna stop her! “Your swimsuit’s nice, too. You look good.”

 Wow, someone get a goddamn camera to catch this spectacular failure of Rumi Usagiyama giving basic compliments. She sounds so eloquent and convincing, she should win an award for Worst Flirting Ever.

 While Rumi beats herself up in her head over her less-than-stellar comments—seriously, could she only think of ‘you look good’?! Who even says that?!—she nearly misses Fuyumi’s answer.

 “Thank you! I…I don’t tend to wear swimsuits very much,” her girlfriend admits bashfully, idly fingering the red halter strap. “Haven’t exactly had many situations where one was needed, honestly…”

 “That so?” Rumi asks, quickly trying to scramble for a decent reply. “Can’t see why you wouldn’t. You must’ve gotten people flocking to take you on a summer date to the beach or pool. Sure thing for someone as smart and nice and pretty as you.”

 Ah, hell, she was rambling now.

 Rumi avoids Fuyumi’s gaze, scratching the back of her neck, smile awkward. Is she coming on too strong? She’s probably coming on too strong. Fuck.

 She hears a giggle, and carefully glances to see Fuyumi flushed and smiling.

 “I was never exactly popular as a person, really, so I didn’t tend to go out much… But thank you,” her girlfriend says, voice soft and warm, but with a sad look in her eyes.

 Rumi decides instantly that she hates the bittersweet tint in those sea-blue eyes and tries for a joke to lighten the mood. “Eh, I dunno. Sounds fake, but okay, babe.”

 This seems to startle a laugh out of Fuyumi, who clamps a hand over her mouth to ride out her ensuing giggles. Her eyes are bright and crinkled, happy; Rumi’s done her job.

 “C’mon, let’s head out. We’ll never get to swim at this rate,” Rumi says, a lopsided smile in place as she nudges her girlfriend. Fuyumi nods, an occasional giggle still stuttering out, and Rumi wraps an arm around her shoulders to guide them outside the changing rooms.

 The action seems to make Fuyumi go pink and duck her head, peering up at Rumi through her clipped-back bangs. Her skin is soft and slightly cool to the touch, surprisingly. Rumi’d always figured that it was just her hands that got cold. Maybe it’s got to do with her ice Quirk…?

 “I really like your swimsuit, by the way,” her girlfriend says, snapping Rumi out of her mesmerized state. Yeesh, she’d spend a whole day staring, if she wasn’t careful.

 “Eh? Really?” she asks, blinking dumbly, a pleased flush rising up her neck.

 Fuyumi giggles and nods. “Yes! It’s really cute. I think you look perfect in it.”

 Rumi feels herself puff up in pride, her confidence coming back full force from the compliment, assuaging her previous fears of her choice.

 She hadn’t been sure about her choice in swimsuit before now. It was a white two-piece, the top a sort of tankini that stopped mid-stomach. The bottom was a skirt made of ruffles. It showed more stomach than she was used to, but that wasn’t a problem; after all, she had a pretty great set of abs, if she did say so herself.

 The problem was that it was…cutesy. Ruffles usually weren’t her thing. And neither were bows, which were decorations scattered across her swimsuit. Even a huge bow decorated the front of her bust. But it fit her well, and it showed off her abs, and it wasn’t too flashy or too provocative. It gave her decent mobility as well, so she could take a swim and not have to worry about accidentally flashing anyone in the process.

 All Rumi had wanted was a swimsuit that was practical, but she’d left the store with the ruffled swimsuit thinking that it looked cute, so it might just help her look cute, too.

 Looks like her pick was right after all, huh?

 “Hell yeah I’m cute!” she hoots, bumping hips with her girlfriend. “But not as cute as you in your swimsuit!”

 “Oh, stop it,” Fuyumi waves her off bashfully, a hand on her pink cheek but still smiling goofily.

 “Just tellin’ the truth,” Rumi says seriously, eyes bright as she gently tugs on the other woman’s bangs. “Specially with those clips of yours? You’re the cutest girl around.”

 Fuyumi was thrown into another fit of giggles and Rumi grinned wolfishly.

 “I, ah…I-I actually got these hairclips to, um,” her girlfriend starts, smile soft and embarrassed. “To match with you…? Sort of.”

 Rumi stops in place, and blinks once, twice. It takes her a few seconds, but then she’s grinning so hard her smile nearly splits her face, and her ears twitch excitedly.

 “You wanted to…match with me?” she asks, still a little in disbelief, pointing at both her rabbit ears. “Seriously?”

 “I know, I know…” Fuyumi sputters out, waving her hands wildly in front of herself in defense, face nearly matching the red streaks in her hair. “It’s…It’s really cheesy and kinda dumb, and—”

 “Babe,” Rumi starts, serious, gently taking her girlfriend’s flailing hands in her own. She leans down and quickly pecks Fuyumi on the nose; if the other woman’s face wasn’t already the shade of a tomato, the public display of affection probably would’ve done it. “Babe, that is the sweetest fucking thing I’ve ever heard in my life. I love it.”

 Her girlfriend’s nervous and mortified smile wobbles, and in just a second, she’s breaking out into a radiant smile so bright that it rivals the sun.

 “I’m…I’m glad,” Fuyumi murmurs softly, leaning forwards to rub their noses together. “I just wanted to show some way of supporting you.”

 “Babe, you’re always supporting me,” Rumi reminds her, but it gets a wide smile from her anyways, her ears perking up.

 “And I always will,” the other woman confirms with a light peck to her lips. Rumi makes the approximate noise of a teakettle and gets a peck on a burning cheek as a reward, the sweet sound of Fuyumi’s giggles in her ears.

 She feels so mushy and soft and warm, like she’s just sunbathed for an entire day. And she hasn’t even been outside for ten minutes, yet.

 Fuyumi’s just got that sorta power, though. Even if she’s got an ice Quirk, she always makes Rumi feel warm and comfortable and oh-so-fond.

 Being with her is worth a hundred—no, a thousand summer days.

 And, honestly? Rumi can’t wait to spend each and every one of them with her.

#todoroki fuyumi #fuyumi todoroki #rumi usagiyama #usagiyama rumi #bnha miruko #miruko #bnha #wlw #bnhawlwweek #rarepair #rare pair #fanfic #mexicat writes

[go-diane-winchester]

Why I stopped liking Misha after eight years.

I loved all the guys at one point.  I don't stan anyone.  Some people may think I am crazy about J2 only.  Well, yeah.  I loved everyone, once upon a time, until they gave me a reason to hate them.  Now only the Js are left and despite being flawed [like every human being on earth] they are still decent human beings.  They are not manipulators or provocateurs.  They are just flawed.  So my admiration has gone back to season 1 to 3, when it was just J2 and they were enough.  With some side order of John.  I like all the Winchester boys, but not blindly.  Even if one of my boys do something wrong, I will acknowledge it.  I wont ignore it, or make excuses for it.  Nor will I dog him down for it.  Unless he is a repeat offender, like Misha.  Misha is not one of my boys.  He is barely a man.   

Before I started to really hate Misha, I had a soft spot for him.  I didn't ship him.  I don't ship.  I mix and match according to my mood.  That is how classic slashers used to do it.  Because pinning your happiness on one ship, when the are a bevy of beauties out there, is a silly thing to do.  I was going to write an epic story for Jared and Matt, where Misha was going to play a pivotal role as Matt's brother because I always felt Matt and Misha had similar fraternal features.  It was going to be an epic.  I was also going to do a suspense-ish story with Jared and Misha, where the epilogue was going to be Misha brutally killing an old woman, but he was the hero of the story.  That story was actually close to my heart.  Unfortunately I got sick, and didn't write anything for years, which is a good thing because I would have regretted wasting such a nice story on that leech. 

I was going to write a Cockles story about two years ago, with Jared, JDM, Gil McKinney and Tahmoh playing supporting roles.  I am meh! about destiel, but never begrudged others who liked it.  Hey, different strokes right?  Its all fantasy anyway.  Or so I thought.   I heard some canon talk on YouTube, here and there, and thought that ''this girl doesn't understand slash''.  How was I to know the majority of them don't understand slash.  Then the hellers started to really misbehave in YouTube comment sections, on Twitter and at cons.  You had to blind not to notice it.  And I was shocked.  I said, ''I wish I could meet Misha.  I will tell him about these fans.  They are giving him such a horrible name.''  I liked him and thought he would make everything better.  How stupid I was. 

Then I realized that everyone else is a either a jerk or leeching off J2's fame.  I realized that Speight was a Trump supporter and that put me off.  Misha blurted it out on a panel and Richard looked angry about it.  Its the first and last time I appreciated Misha having a big mouth.  At that time though, I still liked Misha.  I realized Matt was following a heller on SM, who was bashing Jared continuously, so he can get lost.  Osric was nice and I paired him with Jared mostly, because the big and small thing does something to me.  Sevin was my jam.  This was my honest thoughts when I encountered Kevin zig-zagging and outrunning Sam "Oh, let this cutie be Sam's pairing.  Poor Sammy is so left out because of destiel.  At least now he will have his own stinking cute pairing''.  Not even knowing how I was going to come to regret supporting destiel.  

I felt sorry for Misha, because he was poor and lived on handouts.  I remember him saying that Random Acts was inspired by a woman who bought gifts for him, his brother and mom on Christmas Eve when he was very little.  I felt sad that he cut himself, because he was a bullied teen.  I was furious when he got mugged.  I wanted those pigs caught.  ''Ok, fine, steal his stuff, but there was no need to hit him''.  In other words, I believed everything he said.  I was a sucker.  And I was livid when I realized that he played me and all his other fans. 

The first thing he did, which I didn't like, was bashing the Bible.  I am a Muslim and found that very offensive.  That made me think back on that lady who showed him kindness as a child.  Why would he bash her beliefs when she was so nice to him?  But I thought, first time offence, and let it go.  Then I realized that he was too provocative on stage.  Whether it was swearing or talking abut sex, he didn't care whether children were in the room or not.  I am fairly sure he curbed his language when West was on stage with him.  I cant remember though.  When it came to slash, I was always baffled at why he was talking about it at cons.  As far as I knew, slash-related questions were banned.  Later I realized it was because he was breaking the rules, which was essentially making Jensen look bad. 

Once there was a heartfelt complaint from a minion that fans were asking Misha very sexual questions in a panel.  I was angry.  Why are fans being vulgar with an actor?  He's not your boyfriend.  Later, when I checked for myself, I realized he was being provocative too.  He also made some blasphemous remarks.  Later he complained to one of the handlers ''I didn't know where to draw the line''.  I forced myself to give him the benefit of the doubt even though, that incident stayed with me for all these years.  So he creates the environment that he is complaining about, to make himself look like a victim.  Well sow it and reap it, hypocrite. 

Jaxcon 2017 is where I started to pay attention to Misha and his hellers, and Jibcon was where my mind are fairly made up.  It was only when I looked into Travis Aaron Wade's case that I fully made up my mind, that Misha might be a shadier character than I thought.  Misha has said some very scandalous things about Jensen and Dean followed by ''oh, I am going to get a phone call about this.  I just know it''.  If you have been told not to do something, then why do it?  It was Jensen's death threat that made me really hate this guy.  When I first heard about it, I thought, ''Misha is going to give them a stiff kick for threatening Jensen''.  Months went by.  When Misha kept on pandering and pandering despite the abuse online, that is when I realized that this man is a manipulative, heartless creep who only thinks about himself.  I regret my Misha admiration and I feel a little ashamed that he suckered me.     

Edit:

A reader added this and it thoroughly surprised me:

Agreed on all, but one point I think is off and I’m almost certain I’ve heard that Mishas kids actually swear and he’s ok with it; jokes about it in his panels. I saw a clip once where J2 and MC are on stage and he talked about it and J2’s reactions were almost comical.

If anyone knows which panel that was, please let m know.  I want to see J2's reactions.  And what Misha said. 

#misha #misha collins #jenmisheel #jenmish #destiel #dean winchester #deancas #casdean #dean x castiel #destiel headcanon #jdvm #jensen ackles #jensen and misha #sam winchester #sam and dean #wincest #castiel #cas #cockles #jensen and jared #dean and cas #bi dean #dean is bi #supernatural #spn #spnfandom #spnfamily #jared padalecki #padackles #performing dean

[bullard42weinstein-blog]

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