#i promise i’m still a communist i just also like little things

[goulboss]

an intense hatred of capitalism vs an intense love of trinkets

#crowcore #cryptid culture #chaotic academia #cryptidcore #chaotic academic aesthetic #gremlincore #gremlin culture #anti capitalism #i promise i’m still a communist i just also like little things

[communistkenobi]

Hi, you tend to have well-thought-out political opinions (I don't always agree with you, but your reading liveblog were the kick in the ass to make me read Orientalism, and you have managed to change my mind more than once), maybe might have a better answer here than me.

Is there an ideological reason that American (b/c it typically is, god help me) left-of-center types love electoralism so much online (and offline too, tbh. College continues to deal new and fun kinds of psychic damage), but only in the context of the general national elections? I so often receive various extensive breakdowns of reasons that I MUST vote for Biden in 2024, but less about the benefits of, like, getting really invested in my city council elections or the school board.

We have so many freaking elections for goddamn everything because the US/Canada are fuck-off huge that it's super easy to argue for the importance of participating in electoralism and instead I (especially recently) see so many people picking the worst hill to die on, that I really struggle to. Well. Understand why.

I’ll speak mostly to Canada since that’s where most of my formal knowledge comes from and also because I live here lol. Also a lot of what I’m talking about is coming from books I’ve read - Still Renovating by Greg Suttor for example is a pretty in depth history of social policy (primarily housing) in Canada, it’s very dry but is useful for this conversation. This is off the dome and not meant as a PSA or anything, it’s my own perspective, if people want sources for what I’m discussing I can go dig those up, but I’m just putting this disclaimer at the top in case this post leaves my circle.

To answer your question, my instinct is that it’s because north american democracy is increasingly necrotic and disconnected from the general public (with the usual list of caveats about how much liberal capitalist democracies have ever been “for the people”). Reading up on social policy in Canada directly post-WWII is pretty bleak when comparing it to today - social housing used to be a robust part of the housing market, people were paid far better and had far more economic security, our healthcare was freshly socialised and invigorated, the promises of the Keynesian welfare state were generally being met (for a predominantly white middle class electorate, of course), and so on. Even conservatives were basically on board with these things in the 60s, at least in Canada, although that obviously did not last long. And over the decades we have become entrenched in neoliberal cutbacks, the gutting of public institutions, the sale of public space and utilities, the downloading of responsibility for social welfare onto provincial and then municipal governments who have smaller budgets and more limited institutional power, the massive expansion in public-private partnerships, the militarisation of the police - these things really kicked off in the 80s/90s in Canada and have showed little signs of stopping or even really slowing down since (something that also obviously happened in the US). People make the joke that if libraries were suggested as a policy goal today it would be called a communist plot, but it’s true - all of the shit the government offered us forty years ago is unthinkable to even suggest now. Life in general has gotten more difficult as private wealth and deregulation has taken a progressively stronger hold on domestic affairs. This happened slowly over the course of decades, and as political horizons shrunk in terms of what you could expect/demand of your government, there was a real air of this being inevitable, not a result of conscious political decisions but just some organic outcome that no one had control over (“the invisible hand of the market”). Democratic civic responsibility demands we vote as citizens of our country, but for all the reasons outlined above plus a bunch of others I’m sure I’m forgetting, the liberal conception of democratic participation shrunk to the ballot box alone.

And while we all joke about everyone having the historical memory of a goldfish, I think the pandemic made this a deeply dissonant position to hold onto - we saw the government seemingly awake from a long slumber to exercise its might. It placed eviction bans on landlords, enforced mass quarantines and social distancing measures, provided economic relief to people who lost their jobs, stationed itself inside every building and public space to enforce mask mandates, rolled-out universal vaccination programs that were mandatory if you wanted to keep your job - we saw the government flex its power in labour, in housing, in healthcare, in civic life, and at the border in a way previously unheard of, particularly for people who were not alive to experience the welfare state of the 50s and 60s and even 70s. The state revealed itself as the life-structuring force it always had been before receding again, telling everyone to go back to normal as if nothing had happened, as if millions of people had not died in a global plague, as if it had not just demonstrated to everyone in the country that the state can at the drop of a hat order your landlord to stop evicting you and your boss to give you paid time off. This of course didn’t really happen in the US, or at least not nearly to this degree, which resulted in the deaths of over a million people.

So now when politicians perform this same incapacity to do anything, when they trot out hyper-specific policies that might benefit a couple thousand people at most, when they make stupid non-promises and shrink away from even mild forms of social democracy (eg Sanders-style campaign promises), I don’t know how much people buy it. I’m not particularly optimistic about the pandemic radicalising large amounts of people, but I think even if it doesn’t, we saw what happened! And we’ve all seen a million fucking articles about how people don’t want to go to work anymore, about labour shortages, we’ve seen essentially every sector of labour go on some kind of strike in the past two or three years - there is popular organised political participation happening far away from the ballot box, and is only growing in power by the day. Socialism is now a word that exists in the national consciousness, something that was unthinkable even a decade ago. Currently right now we are seeing an international conversation about (and global popular support for) indigenous sovereignty, we are seeing a full-throated articulation of what a LandBack policy would look like, and this comes on the heels of the national Canadian conversation of residential schools and missing and murdered indigenous women. Decolonisation is now a household term. In the case of the US, we are seeing people make the very obvious point that America can conjure billions of dollars to bomb hospitals and civilians, but any social policy to help its own citizens is too expensive, pie in the sky fantasy nonsense.

And by the same token, there is organised right-wing and fascist violence happening in the streets, massive increases in hate crimes, insane political stunts and demonstrations like the Freedom Convoy and 1 Million March 4 Children (inspired by the Capitol Hill storming in the US), Qanon plots to kidnap and execute elected officials - things that right wing parties are actively encouraging, particularly the PPC and CPC. More and more we see that electoral politics is the domain of the far-right, whose culture war issues have the best chance of being realised through the sacred portal of the ballot box. Democrats can’t even offer people legalised abortion now!

I think this is why liberals are in a state of hysteria. A healthy liberal democracy does not require constant, unrelenting reminders to “vote your ass off.” Liberals are very much aware, even unconsciously, that voting does less and less of what they want every single day - you see this openly admitted to by American liberals, who are now doing Hitler % meter calculations about which fascist to vote for come the next federal election. Voting itself is what matters, even as they openly, frantically admit it will do nothing but slightly delay the inevitable.

So to like directly answer your question: I think it has less to do with federal elections as a specific political strategy and more just an expression of anxiety about the fact that voting does not do what you want it to do, or what it once did - perhaps encouraging larger questions if voting does anything at all. If national federal elections don’t do anything, if you voting for the most powerful position on the planet doesn’t really change very much regardless of who’s in power, what is the point of voting at all? So I don’t think they are articulating an actual political strategy or way of doing politics, because by their own admission it’s not going to do much of anything (while at the same time being an existential crisis). I’m in a similar boat to you, I vote in smaller elections where I feel they will do some measure of good (in part because municipalities are responsible for so much more of civic life than they were a few decades ago), I have engaged with the Ontario NDP for several years (although that has come to an end now because of their position on Palestine). Electoralism is a compromise, it is an avenue for potential good, but not always, or even most of the time.

Thankfully there are other avenues for politics - labour organising, protesting, mutual aid support networks, getting involved with community work, even something like local neighbourhood councils. Those are places of political potential, and a single person’s presence in them can make a legitimate noticeable difference (speaking from several years of heavy involvement in community orgs). I have never really felt like I was making a change while voting, but I have felt that way helping community members not get evicted, or offering them free daycare a few times a week, or running programs from lgbtq kids who don’t want to go home after school. Those things legit save peoples’ lives, a lot of them are low stakes relative to their benefit, and they help stave off the alienation and loneliness I know everyone feels. Obviously you run into the same structural problems you would everywhere else, it’s not a paradise by any stretch of the imagination, but they are so many avenues outside of voting that do actually help people around you.

And I think if liberals admit that these actions are more powerful, more effective than voting, they are admitting to themselves that their core beliefs are wrong, that the communists and anarchists are correct and have been correct long before their dumbass was born. They can no longer point to any institution that gives a fuck about them as a defense against left-wing critiques of liberal electoralism. I think that is part of what animates their hysteria, their temper tantrums, their screaming about the only thing to do is do nothing at all. It is a full-throated defense of self-defeat. They are wailing as everything they believe in dies. I’d be pretty upset too if that were me! Luckily I grew out of that when I was like 19

#asks #and thank u!!! super happy you’re reading orientalism it rules

[potuzzz]

I’m not trying to start a fight/argue, but Ukraine has always supported Palestine. I think it’s important to know that since they themselves are getting invaded, Ukraine isn’t really in a position to put too much involvement in other countries affairs at the moment. But historically, the two have always had good relations

Ukraine doesn’t like Israel, if that’s not obvious.

But Ukraine and Palestine have long recognized each other’s independence. The two are more similar than people realize.

(Again, I’m not trying to be disrespectful, I just want to clarify some Information.)

I promise I won't fight or argue 😉 I'm only occasionally a horrid asshole when people attack me personally, but I love talking kindly with people I disagree with <3

I definitely think things are a little more complicated between Ukraine's support of Israel than, say, the United State's support of Israel, but there is still support-- allow me to state my case why. Bear with me, it requires some context.

I think the most important thing to point out first is that that this support was historic. The state of Ukraine supported Palestine as a Soviet Republic, just as all communists support liberation and oppose apartheid and genocide everywhere. I'm not sure what would have happened after 1991 following the dissolution of the socialist project, but even after the capitalist coup of the Union, these post-socialist societies retained much of their Soviet values ideologically and morally, as well as their international relationships; it would not have surprised me if Ukraine from 1991 to 2014 maintained support of Palestine.

However, the neutral Ukrainian government in 2014, which had good relations with both Westerners in Europe as well as their sibling nation Russia, was couped by the Westerners. What then began was a process of liberalization, militarization, and Nazification of the political and military body.

The Banderites are a group of Ukranian Neo Nazis who are directly and descended without interruption from the original Ukranian Nazi collaborators--as the Nazis raped and pillaged and slaughtered their way eastward in the opening days of WW2, many Eastern Europeans joined their ranks, both fascist individuals happily joining in the destruction of their Jewish, Slavic, etc. neighbors, and also those who were fearful, or just opportunists. Banderites remained a fringe political movement in the underground of Ukrainian politics for a century--while the fall of the Soviet Union in 1991 made their anticommunist, fascist, white supremacist ideology a little freer to stretch its legs, it wasn't until the 2014 coup and its aftermath that they were truly enabled. And enabled they were: Western weapons, ammo, armor, vehicles, intel, military trainers, mercenaries, political favors, and vast sums of money helped the Banderite movement take power in Ukraine. For 8 years, children began being taught Nazi ideology in public schools, groups that were previously underground Neo Nazi paramilitary groups were integrated formally into the military and political body, and those deemed ethnically inferior such as African or Arab immigrants and their more Slavic Russian-speaking neighbors at the east end of Ukraine were harassed, assaulted, killed--bombed, sniped, burned alive.

America and NATO purposefully provoked Russia to invade Ukraine in 2022 as part of their geopolitical strategy since the end of WW2 to contain, weaken, and, eventually, balkanize and colonize Russia.

I won't dig into the details of this conflict, but, suffice to say, it is only through the billions and billions of American dollars that this war didn't end in a few short months.

Likewise, if it wasn't for the billions and billions of American dollars that Israel receives, Israel would have been destroyed by its Arab neighbors generations ago.

Here arises a conflict that the Ukrainian government shares with the Israelis: they both compete to be USA's #1 vassal and to be granted massive subsidies to continue their fascist projects. A dollar sent to Ukraine is a dollar that could have been sent to the IDF, and vice versa.

There is other small geopolitical kinks: Israel and Russia occasionally collaborate in Syria to fight ISIS. Many of the Jews that immigrated to the newly formed Israel came from both Ukraine and Russia.

Now, besides these kinks, including the two UN resolutions you cited, there is no indication that post-2014 Ukraine and Israel are anything but amicable, and support each others respective fascist ideologies, even with the seeming paradox that one is explicitly antisemitic and the other proclaims itself to be the sole voice of Judaism.

Zelensky and Netanyahu have amicable diplomatic relations. They have visited each other's countries many times, and taken turns denouncing Hamas and Russia, respectively. They each publicly support each others sovereignty, urge continued cooperation, and have taken small steps to strengthening political, economic, and militaristic ties, including the exchange of intel, weapons, and training.

The situation is complicated, but the final tally is clear: they are both vassals of the United States, they are both embroiled in hot wars that rely heavily on the approval and charity of American and European citizens and institutions, and whatever feelings they may share privately are secondary to that fact. Perhaps they secretly don't like each other, and see each other as competitors, and only work together under the duress of the United States. Perhaps they love each other, greatly admire each other, and things like the UN resolution are a lover's spat, and reluctance to fully cosign each other is the result of the petty game of necessary geopolitical posturing for their ultimate goals. Perhaps it is a bit of both. But, the end result is the same: they are both minions subordinate to the United States, and thus in this 3rd World War, they are allies, however strange bedfellows they may appear.

#russia #ukraine #israel #palestine #hamas #free gaza #ukranian #russian invasion #oct 7 #from the river to the sea palestine will be free #gaza aid #gaza strip #geopolitics #marxism leninism #political analysis #ww3 #history #socialism #fascism #antisemitism

[authorofemotion]

Ooooh, please tell me ALL about your WIP??

:DDDDDD Okay SO I hope this is at least slightly coherent

It takes place in your typical medieval fantasy world (which I have a map for somewhere), and magic is forbidden in the kingdom we start off in. I do have worldbuilding reasons as to why but that’s a long explanation and not strictly necessary and I already know this is going to be so long. BUT! The neighboring kingdom practices magic! DUN DUN DUNNNNN

And the main character (Lillian) lives in a small village/commune off of a reasonably sized town near the border, which means that sometimes travelers will come and tell stories of magic that don’t paint it as evil. So she still has a very child-like view of magic and spends all of her free time wandering in the woods daydreaming like the absolute nerd she is.

Okay here’s where the actual plot starts:

Lillian is having on-going fighting with her family because of their differing views on magic, so when she finds a boy (named Alastor)hiding in the woods who can do magic, she hides him out of rebellion.

He offers to teach HER to do magic (because anyone can) so, being an idealistic teenager, she accepts (no hate on her I would too). EXCEPT that he starts manipulating her and drawing her further and further away from her family! He tries to convince her to stage a coup with him to return magic to the kingdom and she’s trapped in this choice between him and her family. The obvious choice is her family, so why does she seem to keep choosing him?

From here I’m going to try and simplify the events a little in hopes that if I ever actually manage to publish this it won’t be completely spoiled (I’m on my third draft and it’s 78,000 words!) Also I should mention that his magic takes the form of ice and hers takes the form of fire, and you can form a bond with another person who does magic where you can speak inside each other’s heads for a while. But you can ONLY DO THAT if you tangle yourself magics together. They have to collide and combine.

She ends up moving to the capital city with Alastor and her younger sister Meg. Meg is angry and done with Lillian’s crap so they have a big falling-out and she leaves to go live with a family friend. That completely isolates Lillian with Alastor and his manipulation EXCEPT that she meets the youngest prince, Prince Emory, who loves to write and tell stories (and his sarcastic manservant Hector, who is actually one of a group of secret magic users in the castle who are trying to protect the royal family)

But if Emory finds out she can do magic then she’ll be executed.

I know this all sounds really cliche but I promise there’s a lot of other really interesting stuff going on. There are magical murders going on that Alastor is framing the royal family for and using that to gain a following of communists who he’s going to use in his uprising, and Meg joins them but then her friend gets murdered and she recognizes Alastor and then SHE almost gets murdered but she’s saved by Hector and he asks for her help in saving Lillian from Alastor and she has to confront her personal biases about magic and *deeep breath* a lot of other stuff

In the end Lillian confesses her magic to Emory and chooses him, and he’s cool with it. Cause he’s a cool guy. Then she goes back to confront Alastor and he’s NOT cool with it (though he does start throwing ice at her so idk maybe he is). She tries to fight back but remember how if their magics collide then they’re bonded for a bit? That happens. But Alastor presses his advantage and uses that in to take full control of her. Like, possesses her. Then, because she’s close to the prince, he makes her go try to murder him.

Meg found out about it along with the castle mages, so they’re letting things proceed as normal so they can use the royal family as bait and stop Lillian before she does anything. Meg thinks that’s unfair so she goes and tells Emory what’s going on, and the idiot RUNS T O W A R D S Lillian and almost dies because of it. The mages try to stop her without hurting her, but some of them are trying to save the prince with no regard to her safety so they’re fighting among themselves, and Emory is refusing to fight back.

Finally he manages to get through to her and she gets in control enough to tell him that Alastor is far enough inside her mind that if she were to die, he would die too. Emory is like, “absolutely not. next” but then the royal guards get there and see a girl with a knife attacking the prince so before anyone can stop them one of them stabs her!!

And Emory discovers his magic just in time to save her life but Alastor gets away

I have the plot planned out for two more books and I feel like this is such a bad representation of the plot but here you go!

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ASKING <3333

#new friends #claire gets an ask #my wip #my wip stuff

[sunshineandcybertronians]

It’s Nice to Have a Friend - (Secret Solenoid) TFP Starscream x reader

Word count: 5,599

Warnings: none

A/n: This is my Secret Solenoid gift to @sheabeeprime. This ended up way longer than I meant it to be. The ideas for what I could do just kept piling up and I decided to do all of them. And in true Scarlet fashion, I named this after a Taylor Swift song.

~

The view was amazing from where you sat on the edge of a cliff. Staring at the amazing view ahead of you. The wind in your face and hair. Just you, your thoughts, and the giant robot on your left.

Yeah, you honestly had no idea why Starscream decided to sit with you. And no idea why he always came to your home to pick you up when he was hunting for energon. Maybe he just needed company? Whatever the reason, an opportunity like this was too cool to pass down. So you tagged along whenever you were free. Which sometimes meant having to tell him you were busy or why you weren’t home when he came last. Though it was amazing how he would avoid being seen.

You didn’t know much about him. All you knew was that he was grumpy, had a huge ego, and his ex co-workers sucked.

You bit your lip. Today was the only chance for you to ask this. You pushed a strand of hair that flew in your face.

His helm faced forward, but his optics were on you. “What is it, human?”

“Hmmm?” You looked up at him as innocently as you could manage.

“’I know you were going to ask me something. Just ask me and get it over with.”

“Well,” you began, “There’s this parade going on…”

“And?” he raised one of his large eyebrows.

“It’s celebrating all the different countries in the world.”

“So?”

“I was thinking we could go?” You shrugged and gave a strained smile.

“No.” He immediately shot down the idea.

“But you could learn all about different human cultures.”

“Why would I want to learn about other humans anyway?”

“Wouldn’t simply knowing those kinds of things get you ahead of, and make you more knowledgeable than, the Decepticons?” you asked nonchalantly.

“Hah! You think saying that will make me go?” A look of amused triumph was on his face, but you could see the metaphorical cogs turning in his helm. He soon let out an angry and reluctant hum. “But I suppose I could take some of my precious time to come to your… ‘celebration of opposing humans’.” He waved his servo.

You let out a laugh. “We aren’t enemies or any like that just because we’re from other countries. Yeah, there can be some wars, but we’re mostly allies.”

Starscream gave you a perplexed look with his head tilted. Eventually, he just huffed and turned away, mumbling, “That doesn’t even make sense.”

You examined him, then shrugged. “Okay. But whether or not it makes sense to you, I’m honored you’ll bestow your presence upon the parade.”

He considered your words and, once he processed that it was praise, he puffed out his chassis with his helm held high.

There was a bit of trial and error in figuring out how to get there. You didn’t have exact coordinates and Starscream didn’t know where it was. Finally, you both decided on a method. You would give him directions while looking at a map on your phone. Once you steer him in the general area, you should be able to see the parade from the air. Upon this decision, Starscream jumped off the cliff to perform a flawless, midair transformation. He soared back up to meet you, showing off a few spins, and opened the cockpit for you to get in.

You eagerly got in and he took off. He shot through the sky like a comet, reaching up through a puffy white cloud, which resulted in a huge smile on your face. There was something amazing about being that high above the ground. Clouds stretching out made it feel like a new, hidden world.

“Which way?”

“Oh, right!”

 It was strange how people appeared so small from up above. The whole event would probably have seemed grander from the ground, but you weren’t going to pass up the opportunity to see it from the air. Especially with a giant robot.

“Wow. Look at it,” you commented. Suddenly, the rule of ‘if I can see you, you can see me’ came to mind. “Uh, are they going to find it suspicious that a jet is just floating here?”

“You tell me.”

You thought for only a second. “Definitely.”

Starscream maneuvered himself into a cloud, enclosing around him as though it were just a hologram. The nose poked out and there was a thin layer of cloud over the glass off the cockpit.

“You can still see, right?” he inquired.

“Yep. Thanks.”

You leaned back comfortably. The view was amazing. However the wonder slowly wore off and the silence began pricking at you. You almost wished for him to start complaining, or asking you questions, or for a radio. Though you doubted that he would enjoy human music. Or would he? Maybe you should try introducing some to him, but which genre?

“So what’s going on?” Starscream’s question brought you out of your thoughts.

“Oh, well people representing each country are walking in their group with a flag of that country. Like Italy, over there. They invented pizza!” You sat straight and pointed.

“What now?”

“Pizza, it’s a type of food that has cheese and tomato sauce an-“

“Nevermind. I don’t want to hear about the things you fleshies consume.” You thought you felt his alt mode shudder.

“Hey, if you were human, you would like it too,” you said. You fought the feeling of being offended that was taking over your thoughts.

“Then thank Primus I’m not.”

“Whatever.”  You crossed your arms and slouched back. “… But we do need to eat to survive you know.”

He hummed in reluctant consideration. “I suppose you’re right.”

Some time passed as you continued to sit there. Occasionally you would comment on a ‘country’ that was passing by. Sometimes he would ask about one. It was surprising how much your mind blanked out when you tried to talk about a country. You would have assumed that you wouldn’t have this problem considering you grew up on Earth.

A white flag with a circle and black lines on the corners caught your eye. You couldn't see the details from so far away, but you knew the circle was a blue and red yin yang. "Oh! That's the flag for South Korea."

"South? That sounds more like a location than a faction."

"Faction? What? Well, yes, it's a location. A location with its own government and own way of doing things. Like how you're a cybertronian. Because you're from Cybertron? Were you thinking about it like that? Factions?"

He hovered slightly higher then fell back into place. "How was I supposed to know? Cybertron had one government and leader. Much simpler."

"Hmmm." You considered the thought. "That's either really nice or there was a lot of corruption."

"Oh, you bet there was corruption. But does that mean there's a north, whatever it's called?"

"Korea. And yes, there's a North Korea. It split into north and south a while ago. North Korea has a dictator and isn't a place you want to go."

“What kinds of governments does each of these ‘countries’ have?” He asked.

“Well, the USA is a Democratic Republic. And there’s also socialism in some places, and at some point I think Russia was communist? Why can’t I remember anything?” You cursed yourself.

“Remind me why there isn’t one large government and leaders over the whole Earth?”

“That would be hard to do. A lot of people just wouldn’t agree to that. One of the reasons being that people want their own way of doing things. Since all of these countries formed on their own, having them all agree on giving up their own leadership to have a universal government is nearly impossible. There will always be someone who disagrees on how to run things.”

“It would be easier if someone just conquered the Earth.”

“You think people haven’t tried? There’ve been quite a bit of attempts, like Napoleon, but they all failed in the end. It’s a big place and people fight back.”

Another silence fell upon you both. You bit your lip as you scanned over the parade again.

"There's Japan. They have anime," you said.

Starscream finally lost his patience. “I’m not learning anything of use here! I’m just sitting here watching humans walk! The most informative bit was what you told me about North Kaon!"

"North Korea."

"Whatever it was! You expect me to remember all of these names?”

“Well, at least you can get an idea of what each country is like.”

“Admit it, you just told me to go because you wanted to come.”

“Maybe,” your voice rose an octave higher.

He scoffed.

“But,” you added, sitting up, “I did genuinely want to see it with you and show you a little more of Earth.”

“Why would I want to stay here even longer?!”

“I didn’t say that.” You looked at the gauges softly as if it were his face.

“Ah,” there was a nervous stutter present in his voice, “right.”

“Why did you come to Earth if you hate it so much?”

“It’s one of the last locations where we can find even scraps of energon. And you’ve come along to aid me enough times to know it’s important,” he said.

“It’s one of the only things you do.” You recollected everytime you were with him.

“Because ever since leaving the Decepticons ranks, I no longer have access to our storage or equipment to effectively find it. But I promise you, if it weren’t for Cybertron becoming a desert wasteland during the war, I would have never come to this mud ball.”

“Well. Even if you really wanna get back to cybertron, I’m glad I met you. And that I got to experience your awesome flying skills.” You tugged on a strand of your hair and ran your fingers through it.

There was  a brief silence.

“I mean, of course you would… How much longer did you want to see the parade?”

“Maybe a half an hour.”

“Hmmm. I’m going to be sore after hovering in the same spot for so long.”

“I could always rub your wings later if you want,” you offered.

“And let your grubby, little, fleshie hands on my magnificent wings? I think not.”

“Okay.” You rolled your eyes playfully. “It was just an idea.”

For a few more moments, neither of you said anything.

“Would you like to see a demonstration of my aerobatic skills later?”

“Actually, I would.”

A comfortable pause fell upon you.

“…Would you like to go down there?” he offered. He tipped his nose ever-so-slightly to the ground.

“Nah.” You leaned back in your seat with a smile. “I like it up here with you.”

 It had been two months and six days since you last saw him.

Yes, you were counting and had no idea why. Maybe he finally got tired of your fleshie self and left. Maybe you should have seen it coming with how much he disliked humans. Maybe you annoyed him so much that he decided to never see you again without a word.

Yet, when you truly thought about it, it didn’t make sense. He seemed to enjoy being with you, even if he never showed it outright. He was always the one who decided to bring you along when hunting for energon. Even when he was a giant robot, and clearly had some sort of prejudice against humans, it felt as though he still treated you as an equal to some degree.

But maybe he truly did get tired of you.

You stood by your window. The sun had dipped below the horizon and the last ghosts of light had faded away into darkness. You stood in your sweat pants and baggy t-shirt. Your hair was brushed and you were ready to relax. A warm cup of hot chocolate was in your hands, the warmth seeping into your skin. You stared into the cup, thinking of nothing in particular when you blinked at a sudden light.

Your eyes instinctively followed the light. Outside the window, hovering just above the ground, was a large, greenish blue, swirling vortex. You stepped back, but promptly leaned closer for a better look. It didn’t seem to be pulling anything into it. It seemed gentle, yet powerful. You would have found it beautiful if your mind weren’t preoccupied with confusion.

Something seemed to appear inside of it. It was tall, and metal and--!

You nearly dropped your glass mug. After placing it safely to the side, you grabbed a jacket and rushed out the door. You raced to where you saw the portal as fast as your feet would carry you. It was still there when you reached it. Starscream held a device in his hands and his red optics searched the area, as if looking for something.

“Starscream!” You ran up to him, nearly in tears. “Where were you? You’ve been gone forever!”

His optics avoided your eyes. “Well, I…” His mouth pushed into a thin frown. “I lost my T-cog.”

“You’re what now?”

“T-cog! It’s what allows cybertronians to transform.”

Your current expression dropped as it finally dawned on you. The reason he had suddenly disappeared. Then you remembered that there were other people nearby.

“Why don’t we go back through your portal thing and talk about it there?” You began to jog into the portal.

“Ground bridge.”

“Whatever it is.”

You ran while he walked in. The fact that the ground seemed to be made of swirling energy, though it felt completely solid, messed you up. You being smaller didn’t help either. You were running and still falling behind. After a half a minute, Starscream turned around to pick you up and carry you through.

A flash filled your vision and you had to blink several times to adjust to the dark, new area. The walls, ceiling, and floor were made entirely of metal. The only light source came from a dim glow from an foreign, alien screen. It was clear from the dust that no one had been there in a long time. The scale was so large that you felt confident that this was something cybertronians built.

The portal behind you shrunk until it vanished. Starscream lowered you down onto the ground. As soon as your feet hit the floor, you dashed to Starscream’s foot to give him the biggest hug you could.

“I missed you,” you mumbled. Of course, he might have not heard it if it weren’t for nearly every surface being made of metal, causing an echo.

His posture went rigid. He began to reach down to pat your head, then pulled his hand away. He stayed like that without moving a servo the whole time you hugged him.

“Ah… Me too.”

You let go. The cold of the living metal still lingered on you.

“Where have you been? How did…?” You stared up at him.

“I came across some other humans,” he began as he walked over for something to sit on. He helped you up onto it and you sat next to him. “I tried to asist them in building a cybertronian. I believed that they would allow me to keep energon I allowed them to find.” He stared at the floor the entire time.

Your eyes stayed locked on his glowing optics. “Build a cybertronian? Wait, if that was what happened, how did you lose your T thing?”

“I-They needed a t-cog in order to build a cybertronian. The one they already acquired was lost and they decided to take mine instead.” He almost seemed to curl up at the last words.

This settled on your mind like a ton of bricks. You didn’t say a word. Suddenly the room felt very heavy. The silence was like a suffocating blanket that you couldn’t seem to push off. You swallowed.

“They took… it? But, you could have fought them off easi-“

“They shot me with some sort of stun mechanism then proceeded to rip me open to take it!” His talons clenched into fists before him.

Once again, you couldn’t speak.

“Why is it that the first humans I meet, other than you, are no better than the Decepticons?”

“… Because some people can just be like that. Just like humans have potential for both good and harm, it seems like cybertronians are the same in that way.” You stared at the ground. “So… You can’t transform anymore?”

“No.”

“And that’s why you couldn’t fly back to me?”

“Not until I found the Harbinger and a portable ground bridge.”

You nodded. You pulled your legs to your chest and stared off into nothing. “That must stink. Not being able to fly.”

“It’s been terrible! How do humans survive like this?” He lifted his fists to his face.  His eyebrows, or whatever they were called, dug into his optics.

You shrugged. “We’re just used to it.”

The metaphorical blanket came back onto you, but somewhat more comfortably. Somewhat. You both continued to sit.

“… Are you upset about my not being able to transform?” Starscream cut through the silence. Almost so softly that you could hardly believe he was the one who said it.

“Huh? Well, yes,” you let go of your legs, “because you’re upset. I know how much you love flying!”

“But what about you?”

“Me?” You pointed to yourself.

“Yes!”

“I don’t understand what you’re asking.”

“How do you feel about me not being able to transform?!” He stood up and spun on his heels to face you. His wings stuck up on point.

“Well,” you thought for a second, “I did enjoy flying, but it honestly doesn’t matter too much to me if you can turn into a jet or not. I’m just happy you came back.”

“Oh.” The frustrated expression fell from his face and he looked away. In any direction except at you.

“What’s wrong?” You straightened your back as if it would help you see what was up.

“Nothing, I think. I had simply thought that you only liked me because of my flight capabilities.”

“Why would you think that?”

“I don’t know. Maybe because Megatron only kept me alive because I was useful? It was always like that on Cybertron, and with those other humans. Once I become useless, I’m tossed away.”

You felt your heart twisted and your blood boiling. “I hate people who are like that. Forget them. They aren’t worth your time. I’m glad their out of your life.” You stood up. “And to me, as long as we get to hang out, I’m good.”

Starscream tilted his head. “You truly don’t make any sense.”

You shrugged. “The best people in life are free.”

“Huh?”

“People who don’t expect anything in return,” you elaborated. “They care and love you unconditionally.”

“I don’t believe anyone like that exists.”

“They exist. And so do I.” You confidently stared up at him.

His gaze darted between you and away from you. He took a few steps back, as if you were a mysterious creature that could become hostile or blow up any second. Eventually, he gave in to a beautiful, natural smile. And the room suddenly seemed brighter.

 “So, Starscream, I was thinking…” You walked into the room.

“If it’s anything about making a giant s’more again, I’m not interested.”

“No.”

Starscream had been feeling down, pun not intended, about losing his t-cog. You had cleared out two days in your schedule to have a sleepover with him. He had surprised you when you jokingly offered for him to brush your hair and he accepted. He also tried to braid it when you taught him how. It was surprisingly well done, considering the size of his talons, but still sloppy. You had to remind him that he wasn’t a failure at braiding. While laying in your sleeping bag and bundle of blankets you brought for the occasion, an idea came to you.

“I was thinking,” you continued, “that since you’ve been down about not being able to,” Starscream gave you the stink eye, “you know. So I decided it would be fun to do something similar to that one day with the parade.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, I can’t fly you to another one.”

“No, not that. I mean that there’s this scout group doing a world presentation or whatever near where I live. They’re going to have cardboard stands set up for each country they researched about.”

“I really don’t think you’ve thought this through,” Starscream sighed, “I do not think these, or any, humans would react well to seeing a cybertronian.”

“I’ve already figured that out!” You bounced on your toes. “I’ll be carrying a camera that will stream video to you over here. That way you can see it without having to be there! And I have some earbuds so I can start a call with you and be able to hear and answer back if you have any questions.”

“Will the humans be suspicious about you speaking to no one?”

“Nope! They’ll just assume I’m on a call with someone, which technically isn’t wrong. So what do you say?”

 “Okay. So you can still see the video feed, right?” you asked while readjusting the camera on your hat.

“Yes, now stop shaking around!” Starscream’s voice came through your earbud. You swore that you would go deaf if this lasted too long.

“Okay,” you mumbled.

The sky was overcast. You walked into the building along with families that had come to see the scouts’ projects. There were tons of tables and three paneled boards lined up. People wandered around. They would stop to read, then turn and walk to the next one that caught their eye. It was clear which groups were family because they would greatly compliment the child’s work.

You figured you needed to start somewhere. It was a stange feeling to be there when you didn’t know anyone, even if the event was open to the public.

“Are we just going to stare?”

This snapped you out of your daze. You blinked for a second. Right, you weren’t alone. You had Starscream.

“Right,” you said and stepped forward.

You walked along the rows, glancing over them until one caught your eye. “France,” you said while pointing to the printed out flag, making sure your finger could be seen by the camera. “It’s in Europe. The capital is Paris. The population is 66 million.” You read off of it. You walked over to another. “Germany. It’s also in Europe. You know, maybe this whole row is European countries. Anyway, capital’s Berlin. Population is 83 million. Their currency is euros.”

“Ironic how these give more information than you did that other day.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yes. Ironic.” You walked a few more steps and stopped. “Some place named Estonia. The flag looks cool.”

“It’s three lines of color, like the other ones.”

“I like the colors.”

“There’s a lot of writing and pictures on each report,” Starscream commented. “Did each of these children research, find the information, and organize it in a presentable way?”

“Yes?” your voice came out as more of a question.

“Impressive.”

You smiled. “Some kids don’t do scouts, but they end up doing things similar with science fairs in school. They’ll do experiments or research, and they they have to make a presentation about it, like a vinegar volcano.”

“A volcano?!”

“No, it can’t do anything dangerous.”

“Then what’s the point? I wouldn’t call that science.”

“It’s simple science that kids are able to do. You know, since they’re kids?”

You noticed one of the parents staring at you and you gave an apologetic look while moving your hair to point at your earbud. You continued walking and eyeing some of the posters to read to Starscream. You had gotten to the Asia section and did your best to pick out something to show him.

“And see? The rainbow bridge.” You pointed.

“Huh? Oh, yes. Very nice,” he said absent mindedly.

You quirked an eyebrow up, but eventually shrugged. He was probably getting bored with all of this. A part of you was beginning to wonder why you thought this was a good idea. This thought detracted you from the sounds surrounding you. You suddenly felt cold and like something was hitting you?

You looked around and suddenly noticed that the fire alarm had gone off. Loud beeps filled the room. Everyone was trying to get out. Kids looked in all directions in confusion. Adults tried to keep them calm and safely head out. Your clothes were beginning to dampen. Instead of trying to get out, your first instinct was to get out of the sprinkler. You crawled under a table and peeked out.

The last few people were almost through the door. That’s when you decided it was time for you to go, but something caught your eye. Something in one of the upper windows that lined the wall near the ceiling. Starscream? His red optics stared down at you and he signaled for you to stay there, along with whispering to you through your earbud. You were confused, but you hid under the table once more.

You waited until the water stopped pouring. Once it was over, you pulled yourself out and to your feet. You glanced around. That was rather sudden. And now there were puddles all over the floor.

A loud rattling echoed in the room.

You turned to see the large door, the kind you would see in a garage, at the back of the room open up. The temperature of the room changed to match outside. Starscream held the door up with a mischievous smirk. You took your earbud out.

“What did you do?”

“I may have gotten bored simply watching through a screen and decided to come. And I may have possibly started a fire, opened a window, and held it next to one of those fire alarms.” His grin grew with each word.

“Really?” You asked rhetorically with your hands on your hips. But you couldn’t help but crack a smile yourself.

“What? I was bored.” He shrugged and waved a hand.

You shook your head with a laugh. “Whatever.”

Starscream ducked in. He had to stay bent down to order to fit. You moved out of his way was he came in.

“So, you were actually interested in this?” you questioned.

“I thought it would be better to see it in person with you.”

“Yeah, but some fire trucks or someone else is going to eventually come back here and see you.”

“Hmm.” He looked back. “I see. But one look for a nanoklick couldn’t hurt. I just did all of this so I could see it anyway.”

“Okay.” You shrugged. “Just hurry.”

After his wing nicked the roof when he tried to straighten himself, he quickly realized that it was easier for him to be on his knees. As he got down on his knees, you helped direct him down in the small free space between the tables. The legs skidding against the floor echoed through the room and made you jump. You were surprised he was even trying to do this when he could barely fit between the rows.

He had to lean in close to get good look of the displays. He would occasionally ask you the meaning of a word he didn’t know. You had to admit, it was more fun to have him there in person. Unfortunately you couldn’t enjoy this for fear of being seen. You constantly looked over your shoulder.

Eventually your paranoia dropped by a few notches. Though, by then Starscream had gotten tired of being crammed in a small space and probably noticed your concern. It was awkward getting to the garage door, between him being unable to move much and him blocking you. But you made your way out.

He lifted the door and ducked under and out. You followed when you noticed him freeze. Confused, you followed his gaze. Your blood went cold and you felt as if your mind was being squeezed into a box.

Staring up at Starscream was what looked to be a five year old child. The little boy was alone, probably wandered off, and had an orange jacket and hat. His expression twisted into disbelief then fear. Your heart rate quickened when you saw his face wobbling.

“Scrap,” you let out as you both turn the other way in panic.

Starscream closed the door with a loud bang that sent a shiver up your spine. You didn’t noticed what Starstream was doing behind you, since you were already running on instinct. When he came into your field of vision again, he was twisting on one foot to regain balance and lifted up the remote ground bridge device. In his panic, he hesitated on which button to click, but quickly pressed it once he remembered.

“Is it a good idea to open it up in here?” you questioned as the piece of cybertronian technology swirled and grew before you.

“I would have preferred a larger space, but I don’t believe we have much of a choice.”

He scooped you up and pulled you through. Like always, you blinked when a flash filled your vision. The air suddenly changed and you were back on the Harbinger as the ground bridge closed behind you. When he held you to the ground and you finally collected yourself enough to jump off, you realized that three of the cardboard presentations had managed to come through along with you and Starscream.

You stood there. “Well, that was interesting.”

“One shouldn’t cause any problems, right?” He looked to you before his eyes darted back to where the ground bridge was.

“That was a kid. They won’t believe him. They might look around, but after seeing no giant robot, they’ll dismiss it.”

“That’s good to hear.” Starscream groaned and held his shoulder. “That made all of my joints stiff. And the tip of my wing caught on the top of that door.” He glanced at his wing with a slight pout on his face.

You stared up at him, taking a moment to consider your words before you were unable to take them back. “… Would you like it if I massaged your wings?”

His optics widened and darted around the area. “Fine,” you could barely hear in the midst of low grumbles.

You blinked twice before fully processing what that meant. As you were trying to figure out how to even reach his wings, he held out his hand. You stepped onto it and he carried you to a table or whatever it was. It was too large for you to tell exactly. You carefully got off of his hand and he sat with his wings facing you.

You sat with your legs hanging off the edge. Your hands reached out to his wings. He readjusted himself so you didn’t have to lean forward in order to touch them. Your fingers shook. You hesitated. Finally, your hand laid flat on it. It was cold. You didn’t know what you expected. It was basically like touching a regular piece of metal. You weren’t sure what you were expecting. But somehow it felt different. Maybe because he had trusted you to touch it. You began rubbing it soothingly. You prayed that you weren’t doing anything wrong.

He hummed as you rubbed patterns onto it. Although you were sure he could barely feel it, you saw him relaxing. There was silence for several minutes.

“Why are you so kind?” he said.

“Huh?” You did your best to peek around to look at his face.

“How can humans be like this? At least you and the ones you talk about. Those small humans, no matter how well they proformed with their research, were praised. And how can other humans get along well enough to be allies despite having separate territories and governments? How can anyone do anything for someone else without expected anything in return.” He turned his helm to you. “Unless there’s something you’re not telling me.”

“No?” You tilted your head in confusion. “I just wanted to because it was the nice thing to do?”

“How? Why?” He turned his whole body, leaving your hands floating in the air. “Why are you always so nice to me? Has it ever occurred to you that you would get nothing in return? Especially from a grounded Decepticon defect?”

“I’m not looking for anything in return,” you started calmly. “I might get to learn about cybertronians, and do some cool things with you. And I get to spend time with you. I get that in exchange, but I’m not expecting anything more. Can you please accept that there are some people who are just nice? Who actually like you and want what’s best for you?”

His face twisted, as if about to argue. But paused, like he had never considered that before. He opened his mouth again, but closed it again, when no words would come out.

He eventually sighed. “I suppose I’ll simply have to trust you,” he said softly. He stared at you closely. “Your hair dried.”  

You suddenly remembered it had been wet from the sprinklers. He reached out and touched your hair, letting it fall on his talons.  Then he flinched back. “Uh… apologies.”

You reached out to pull his finger close to you and hug it. “It’s okay.” You smiled. “I like it.”

Starscream appeared shocked by this, but relaxed and smiled. A genuine smile.

#starscream x reader #secret solenoid #secret santa #starscream #transformers #transformers prime #tfp #tfp starscream #tfp x reader #I swear I didn't see the thing about IaCon just because you were my giftee #someone I followed reblogged it XD

[mysticalmusicwhispers]

#i wonder what your thoughts on diaspora in hetalia are#cause its a pretty interesting topic (the post in question)

@urmomsstuntdouble a collection of things that I think about on a semi-regular basis below the cut (also thank you for the tags!)

Disclaimer: I think this turned into more of a discussion of immigration and immigrants, but I hope this strikes your fancy anyways 😅. Also this got SO LONG and I explained quite a bit of history (because idk whether anyone knows much about this), so the key thoughts will be bolded!

My thoughts are kinda complicated about this tbh; it’s weird, because if China really did exist as a personification in real life, we’d probably both be judging each other, just for different reasons 😅.

General Hetalia Cases

I think when discussing immigrants/diaspora, you have to think about why different immigrants left. @cupofkey kinda discussed that a while ago (if anyone hasn’t seen this superb post, GO READ IT NOW) about the Vietnamese diaspora, and I think there’s some of that in every country. How do the immigrants feel about the home country? Why did they leave: because of hard times, poverty? Political instability/revolution/war? Opportunities overseas? Are they doing well in their new home, or still struggling? Does their new country treat them like foreigners or outcasts, unworthy of even arriving, or doing anything besides menial labor, or have they been welcomed (rather unlikely)? Do they hate their home country (politically), or miss them? Would they ever go back, not just to visit family or the place of their birth, but to return permanently?

I think on the whole, hetalia nations would still maintain a connection to their immigrants, especially since most are still in touch with their culture, although they’ve crossed borders or changed nationalities. (However, the angst of not being as in touch with your culture as you think you should is so real; would our home countries be disappointed? Or do they sympathize, somehow?) In the end, we’re all the same that way. Plus, the alternative thought of them just disowning immigrants feels weird; I don’t even know how that would be possible. But I think that connection gets complicated by the reason people left, and their feelings for their place of origin; I’ll be using APH China and Chinese Americans as an example to discuss this hksdgsdf (sorry I don’t want to do more research than necessary and I have Thoughts about this)

**OBLIGATORY DISCLAIMER that immigration/diaspora discussions are almost always case by case and will vary greatly based on things like country of origin/race/ethnicity, country immigrated to, initial socioeconomic status, time period, etc. And even among diaspora, people can and will have vastly different experiences, and it’s not good to generalize. These are just some thoughts with one example.**

1. Waves of Immigration 

Depending on when people arrive, they’ve got different push/pull factors drawing them to a country and it also factors into how the nation feels about them and vice versa... Chinese immigration to the US has mostly two major waves (you could also say there were 3, counting the post-WWII/Communist China wave, but I won’t talk about that): one in the mid 1800s and the other after the 1970s/1980s into modern day; the gap is because the Chinese Exclusion Act (1882) that banned most immigration from China wasn’t repealed until 1943 (because of Japan’s attack on the US in WWII, the US needed China as an ally).

IMMIGRATION WAVE 1: MID 1800s

These immigrants were mostly from southern China (Canton area), and they came to the US because of hard times (Opium Wars + political instability because of things like the Taiping Rebellion) and economic opportunity in the West (eg. Gold Rush (San Francisco is literally “Old Gold Mountain” in Chinese today) + industrialization, railroads, expansion etc.). There was Much Discrimination against those immigrants, and many worked as hard laborers in a variety of occupations (on railroads, gold mine, farms (in the South esp), laundry businesses; there were merchants as well, but they were the minority); many were looking to get some money that they could send back to their families in China and planned to return, but over time, they settled down and stayed. I think for those immigrants, Yao would definitely be understanding, even if he might not be empathetic. After all, he’s not thriving at that time either, and although he thinks Alfred is inferior to him (in many ways), he understands why people would be drawn by economic promise and quick wealth, even if it might not be the best strategy for getting rich. It’s not like staying in China would be better lmao. However, I don’t think he would approve (?) how many of his immigrants stayed in the US when most viewed it as a temporary move; I think Yao is very surprised by how so many of them persisted to carve out a home there, despite the discrimination and limited opportunities. Perhaps he admires their resilience, the creation of Chinatowns and community and how they still come to a country that doesn’t even let them in (see the San Francisco Fire of 1906 and the boon for paper sons), but still wishes they would come back, however unlikely that hope is. Personally, Yao would never be able to stay in Alfred’s country, the beautiful country, if Alfred’s hypocrisy prevented his experience, his immigrant’s experience, from being anything close to beautiful. (You were founded by immigrants and foreigners, but now you spurn them: the poor sojourners who continue to flee to your shores, and refuse them respite from the disasters at home.) And anyways, Alfred is just the next scrappy young upstart, barely 70 years old but with a swagger like he rules the world; how could he have something over himself, the Middle Kingdom, who has stood the test of time? (Admittedly, he’s doing nowhere as well as Alfred—even he can see that, despite his pride, and despite the haze of opium in his brain. Leaving is the logical, objectively sound choice. Still, his pride hurts vaguely when he thinks how his immigrants keep choosing a country that keeps rejecting them, over and over again, instead of himself. But it is no matter. The injury to his ego is inconsequential and easily brushed aside; for they are still his people, and they deserve a good life, wherever they are. His distaste for Alfred flares up again: Arthur’s bastard child, who takes advantage of his trade (see the Open Door Notes, 1899-1900), but refuses his people.)

if anyone wants more context or is interested in the history I mentioned, I highly recommend this pdf (from the book A Different Mirror: A History of Multicultural America by Ronald Takaki)

IMMIGRATION FROM 1949 TO 1980: according to Wikipedia, there was very little immigration from mainland China during this period due to the Cold War and China becoming Communist; most of the immigration was from Taiwan/ROC but counted in the quota for China. Since there’s a separate Hetalia personification for TWN, I’m not going to go over that. However, there were also many people from Mainland China who escaped to Hong Kong, still a British colony, during that period (I hope it’s clear why, but if anyone asks I’ll put it in a separate post); some stayed there, while others emigrated to the US; both trips were for more freedoms and a better life etc because China was really really messed up for a bit (also keep in mind the people emigrating all had the means to and were at least middle class, usually somewhat educated, etc.). I will not be talking about that group either because I don’t think it’s my place to, but please know they exist as well.

IMMIGRANT WAVE 2: 1980s ONWARD

A lot of people came from mainland China for education; there was also an. exodus of intellectuals following 1989 (which I Will Not get into). Many of these people sought job opportunities, like those that rapidly opened up in the computer industry, there are many students who come here to study abroad, who take SATs and TOEFLs to get into good US colleges or to conduct graduate research and get PhDs; some stay, others have gone back to like, advance China’s development (this sentiment of getting good students to go abroad and then go back to China to use their talents for Patriotic Purposes isn’t a new thing, stretches back to like the late 1800s). I don’t really have much to say about this group besides what’s below ↓. 

2. Immigrant Thoughts On Their Home Country

more complicated, because it varies by generation and time period and probably 203943 other things. Mainlanders that came over starting in the 1990s till now have relatively positive feelings towards China (imo, extrapolating from my life experiences); I think part of that is also because most* of these immigrants aren’t really escaping from something? They’re coming for an education/job opportunities (students studying abroad in the US (留学生 or liuxuesheng) for graduate school or university come to mind as one example), and they’re still very much connected to China politically and culturally, sometimes* more so than to the US. For these immigrants, I think Yao doesn’t worry too much about them? They’re pretty successful* overall*, and discrimination, although still A Large Problem™, isn’t the same from stuff that Yao (or his immigrants) remember from, say the mid 1800s (see above), or even during the paranoia about Communists after WWII and the subsequent Chinese Confession Program that made many people really scared of being deported. (Red China made Chinese Americans a target of the Communist panic, and the confession program was instated in order to make sure Communist spies couldn’t infiltrate the US. Those who immigrated illegally could confess that and gain citizenship; however you also had to weed out everyone you knew who also immigrated illegally.) I think Yao would see them as an extension of himself in a different land; they’re very much still part of him, and he gives them his well wishes.

However, I think that immigrants born in the US in modern day at least (1990s onwards) are definitely more ambivalent about China’s legacy + modern day Issues™, as much as we are connected via culture and heritage. Not quite sure how Yao would feel about that, because I’m not quite sure how much Yao is the state and how much he represents the people. However, I think there would be some mutual unease; does he see this as betrayal of some kind? Perhaps he doesn’t blame us for feeling as we do? Maybe he wonders what we feel about him; maybe he doesn’t want to know. Maybe he chooses the easier route: to focus on the bonds between him and his huayi instead of the grievances, and leave the rest unsaid. 

Additionally with first gen immigrants, there’s the conflicting feeling of being stuck between two worlds and value systems that oppose each other in many respects. Also there’s sometimes a feeling of not-quite-being-in-touch-with-your-culture (in other diaspora as well, ofc. here it’s often exemplified by forgetting or not knowing how to read and write Chinese proficiently, among other things 🙃); idk. does Yao see that as a bit of a disappointment? Would he wish us to try harder? Does he view it as inevitable, for those raised in the US; the environment is too different, and perhaps he won’t blame us for those differences, or shortcomings. Does Yao know, or care, about the racism? What about his immigrants who try to assimilate completely into American culture, who try to erase the Chinese part of their identity? Those that have tried it, but regretted it? Are they still his, when they have tried rejecting their connection to him, choosing to drop the “Chinese” from Chinese American? Does he consider racism when thinking about them? What about international adoptees? Does he claim them, when some have not been raised in a culturally Chinese environment, and when it’s still a sensitive subject on both sides of the ocean? I don’t have answers to many of these questions.

There are also immigrants who fled China because of war or persecution or upheaval, (one example is with regards to the Cultural Revolution), but I don’t feel qualified to discuss it here, and I don’t want to take it lightly.

But, despite everything I’ve discussed above, I’d like to think that however an immigrant feels about their home country or however long they’ve been there, all nation personifications would still wish them a better life (even Yao). I mean, it’s not always easy being an immigrant/part of a diaspora (especially when race becomes a factor). I really don’t think any of the hetalia characters would say “look at your struggles. What a mistake it was to immigrate somewhere where you still face so many challenges, although they might be different from the ones back home”. that’s just No. Also, I think that when you disregard sentimentality and their inherent connection to the people, countries would still be able to sympathize with people trying to strive for better, you know? People immigrate for a better life, whether it’s because it was getting rough when they left or because other places had more potential, and like. although nation-people can’t leave their own country, I think they understand the people who do, because it’s a chance to make a new life, and it would be unkind, counterproductive, limiting, to prevent someone from taking that opportunity if it came. And their children, and grandchildren; they are still connected to their origins even in a new country, by blood if nothing else, and nations are people too; they must have some sentimentality for their people born in a different land. I’d like to think that if Yao met a Chinese American kid running around San Francisco’s Chinatown, or bumped into an ABC high schooler in a well to do Massachusetts suburb, he’d stop and nod and maybe say hello, and wish them luck, wherever they go in the future. After all, they are the products of his immigrant’s hopes and dreams, and they are his too, as much as they live in Alfred’s land.

* (asterisks): this is a) from my experience and research; not everyone will have the same experiences! please keep this in mind and don’t generalize a very vast group of people. :)

Idk if that was too sentimental or rambly or something, but yeah, those are some of the things I consider when I think about nations and their diasporas. If you made it down here, thanks for reading! I greatly appreciate it. Also I hope I got all my facts correct, but if anyone spots anything incorrect, especially regarding the post 1980s immigration wave, please tell me! Tried doing my research but there are still a few things I’m unsure about rip. 

This might be deleted tomorrow because I’m feeling weird about it, but feel free to reblog! I’d also very much love some feedback too if any of y’all are feeling up to it

#i was thinking about a lot of this when writing the zine fic so this post is partially an extension of that #hws china #aph china #musings #hetalia #nation lore #hws #aph #aph china headcanons #hetalia worldbuilding #headcanon musings #hetalia headcanons #I GUESS??

[melanielocke]

Lost in the Shadows - Chapter 10

AO3

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Taglist: @nott-the-best @foxglove-airmid @alastair-esfandiyar-carstairs1 @justanormaldemon @styxdrawings @ipromiseiwillwrite

CW: Discussion of toxic relationship

Lucie was under the impression Alastair liked Thomas, but Lucies texts only made him more nervous. Even if Alastair smiled back, even if some things he said could hint at romantic feelings, Thomas had no clue how to make a move on people, much less Alastair. After dinner, they talked a bit more, about books, history, places they wished to travel. Alastair told him that he’d once read Machiavelli’s the Prince for comfort, but had since replaced it with Marx’ the Communist Manifesto. Thomas, who read mostly fiction, found it hard to imagine those books as something one read for comfort, but he promised he’d give the Communist Manifesto a try.

‘My ex recommended the Prince,’ Alastair explained. ‘In retrospect, the book suits him pretty well. It’s about power, manipulation, and he was all about that.’

‘As in, he manipulated you?’ Thomas asked.

‘He wants to get into politics, and I think he cares more about holding a position of power than about doing what’s best for the country. But he also manipulated me,’ Alastair said, showing no emotion. ‘He was very obsessed with his own social status and image, and would have done anything to improve that. I would not have reflected well on his image, so he kept me a secret and made me believe it was what was best for me.’

Thomas was certain he would be a better partner to Alastair than his exif they were in a relationship, but figured that was a pretty low bar. He didn’t know much about relationships, had never been in one, and wasn’t sure he knew how any of that worked, or how to be with someone with such a bad past experience. He didn’t want to hurt Alastair by accident. Perhaps his parents had some advice, but then he’d first have to tell them he liked boys. Which he planned to, but he had not yet figured out the right words, the right occasion.

‘How did you come out to your parents?’ he asked Alastair.

His parents were outside, they wouldn’t overhear. Thomas hoped they wouldn’t walk in out of a sudden, but if they did… Well, then at least they’d know and Thomas wouldn’t have to prepare a speech.

‘I only came out to my mother and aunt Risa,’ Alastair said. ‘Not to my father, nor do I care to.’

‘So, did you prepare a speech or anything?’ Thomas asked.

‘I did, because I suspected my mother and aunt Risa might not understand or know much about gay people, so I’ve mostly been educating them on various sexualities and gender identities. Risa actually discovered she is asexual and aromantic after I explained those concepts to her. Why do you ask?’

Thomas turned red, he laughed nervously. ‘I’ve been meaning to tell my parents I’m gay, but haven’t found the right time, or figured out how to tell them.’

‘You don’t have to tell anyone if you don’t want to. Do you want them to know?’ Alastair asked.

Thomas considered Alastair’s question for a moment. ‘Yes, I do. I think it would be easier if they knew and I would rather tell them before I am in a relationship instead of introducing a boyfriend. Since that would be awkward for him as well. Mainly, I just want them to know but I don’t want an awkward conversation.’

‘I think your problem is that you’re too determined to do it perfect,’ Alastair said. ‘Your parents seem very open and accepting, I don’t think you have to worry.’

‘No, I know that,’ Thomas said.

He felt stupid. Alastair must have had a much harder time telling people, he hadn’t known beforehand that his mother would be accepting. Thomas was fairly certain his parents would love him no matter what, and yet here he was complaining to Alastair about how difficult he found it to come out.

‘I know it can still be scary,’ Alastair said. ‘I was fairly certain Cordelia wouldn’t mind at all, yet I postponed telling her for a long time. Of course in my case it could have saved me a lot of misery, had I told her sooner.’

‘What do you mean?’ Thomas asked.

‘She realized almost immediately after I told her that my ex boyfriend was treating me badly, when I did not. It took her a couple of weeks to convince me, but I realized she was right and then I broke up with him.’ Alastair paused. ‘It’s nice to have someone to talk about it. For a long time, I had only him and he actively discouraged me from telling anyone else.’

‘I’m guessing he wasn’t out?’ Thomas asked. ‘He thought being gay would reflect badly on him as a politician?’

‘No, I don’t think that was the problem. He was private about his sexuality, but I think his friends and family knew. I don’t blame him for that, I understand it’s not always easy to talk about and there can be consequences when people know. But I think in his case, he didn’t want people to know about me because I was so much younger, he probably knew grooming a teenager would reflect badly on him. He always said it was because I wasn’t out that he wanted to keep our relationship a secret, that he wanted to protect me from judgement, but I doubt that was true. I never wanted to be someone’s secret.’

Thomas frowned. ‘Wait, how much younger were you?’

‘Six years. I met him when I was fourteen and entered a relationship with him at sixteen.’

Then Alastair’s ex must have been twenty two at the time? Thomas, at eighteen, considered sixteen year old boys children and had no romantic interest in them. He preferred to look at boys his own age, maybe a little older. Despite being a year ahead in his education, Alastair was only a couple of months older than him. He couldn’t imagine being interested in a teenager when he was in his early twenties.

‘I didn’t realize at the time that the age difference was a red flag,’ Alastair explained. ‘I felt very mature, to have caught the attention of someone older. He told me, over and over, that I was very mature for my age, that he couldn’t believe I was still so young.’

Thomas suspected most teenagers would be flattered to be called mature, to be taken seriously by an adult. It was a vile sort of manipulation, to seek out someone young and vulnerable and isolated, someone who would easily fall for such compliments, only to take advantage of them and treat them badly.

‘How did you tell Cordelia?’ Thomas asked.

‘She realized something was not right,’ Alastair said. ‘She realized I was sneaking out at night, that I was barely eating and losing weight because I was so nervous. She said I was “being even more difficult than usual, and that’s saying something”. So I told her not to worry about it and that I was just sneaking out to see my boyfriend. I said I’d wanted to tell her, but wasn’t sure yet if I was ready, and that he had recommended I don’t tell anyone yet. She started asking a lot of questions about my relationship. At first it was in a supportive way, what did he look like, what were his interests. She kind of freaked out when she learnt about the age gap, and the more she asked about how he treated me, the more concerned she became. She’s been very protective of me ever since.’

‘I’m so sorry. Not that it’s my fault, or there’s anything I could have done, but I’m just sorry. That it happened to you. I’m glad your sister is protective of you. As long as she’s not too protective, I mean,’ Thomas said. ‘I know from experience too much protection can be suffocating.’

A small smile appeared on Alastair’s face, and Thomas realized he so rarely did. He had a very pretty smile that lit up his dark eyes.

‘I found it confusing most of all. As the oldest sibling, I always thought it was my duty to protect her, not the other way around. But Cordelia is fierce, and I love that about her. This one time we ran into him while shopping, not long after the break up. He tried to approach me while Cordelia was getting us ice cream, and when she returned and saw him she threatened to expose him as an abuser and child groomer on all her social media channels if he didn’t back off.’

‘Isn’t what he did illegal anyway?’ Thomas asked. ‘Since you were a minor? Couldn’t you go to the police if he kept harassing you?’

‘Age of consent is sixteen, so even if he was much older it was legal for him to have sex with me,’ Alastair explained. ‘It would be illegal if he was my teacher or in any way in a position of power over me, but he was not. He must have been aware of how those laws work and I think perhaps he waited until I was sixteen so it would be legal.

Him harassing me might be enough to get a restraining order, but honestly I don’t trust the police to believe me over him. Besides, I have no intention of sharing something so personal with police officers. I expect them to not care at best and I think it is likely they will be racist and homophobic and will blame me for what happened.

Cordelia has enough followers on twitter and Instagram to get the story out if we wanted to and it’s a decent threat, but I’ve asked her not to.’

‘From what you’ve told me, he fully deserves to be exposed,’ Thomas said.

He was angry on Alastair’s behalf, and Thomas guessed Alastair was right that as an Iranian gay man he could not trust the police to help him.

‘It’s not so much about whether he deserves it or not. I’m still processing what happened, and I don’t want to be judged by strangers on the internet. I consented to everything sexual we did even if it was coerced, and not everyone will understand all the subtle manipulation involved. I know people will claim it was all my fault, and if I didn’t want it I should have just said no. Or that after breaking up I decided to ruin his life by telling lies. He has powerful friends, I do not. I admire the bravery of the people who expose rapists and abusers on the internet, but I can’t put myself through that right now.’

Thomas felt nauseous, the idea of Alastair being manipulated into having sex with a much older man was difficult for him to process. It made him angry, Alastair had given this man everything, had loved him. How could someone have taken advantage of such a beautiful and passionate man? People often accused Thomas of being too kind, too compassionate, of trying to empathize too much with people who did bad things, but he was fairly certain that if he ever encountered the person who did this to Alastair, he would feel nothing but anger and hatred towards him. And he’d make sure whoever it was would never hurt Alastair again.

He wanted to show support, he wanted to love Alastair, but wasn’t sure how. He knew it was a big step for him, to open up so much, he knew Alastair was very private and trusted him as much as he knew how to trust. Thomas was terrified of letting him down, of breaking his trust.

‘Did he at least back off after that threat?’ Thomas asked.

‘I haven’t seen him in real life again, but he has been texting me until I blocked his number. He is part of the reason I came here, something I needed to get away from. You have provided a decent distraction and I am grateful. I have never… had a friend like you.’

Thomas wasn’t sure how to feel about that statement. He liked being trusted, he loved that Alastair valued him, but at the same time he wanted to be more to him than just a friend. But Alastair needed a friend, Thomas told himself. And perhaps Alastair would fall in love with him over time, perhaps someday they could be together. If not, being his friend would still be worth it.

‘Now, would you want to play another game of ludo before I return to the Herondales? I am certain the dice will be on my side this time,’ Alastair said.

The dice were not on Alastair’s side. The difference in rolls were at the very least statistically improbable, but Thomas wasn’t great at math. He won by a landslide.

‘You’re older than me,’ Thomas offered as an explanation.

Alastair frowned. ‘Only by a few months, and what does that have to do with anything?’

‘I have a theory that dice games like this one favor the young,’ Thomas explained. ‘I used to play this game with my sisters and I always did better. Of course, Barbara would usually let me win with games, but that’s difficult with a game like this. But most of my friends are younger than me, and with Lucie I don’t have nearly this amount of luck. And when I played with my younger cousin Alexander, my rolls are as pathetic as yours. Of course, that’s for the best because he’s three and he throws the game across the room when he loses.’

‘Nothing you just said makes sense,’ Alastair pointed out. ‘The dice can’t tell how old you are.’

‘Perhaps there’s a little spirit in there,’ Thomas said with a smile. ‘Something that realizes if little Alexander loses, painful things will happen to it. It probably dreads the day Alexander will play against children his age.’

Thomas guessed that might not be the best idea, at that age all children were sore losers. Most three year olds didn’t play together yet anyway, it was more parallel play what they did. Alastair left after losing another game, and at the end Thomas might have convinced him of his theory.

‘I’ll meet you here after breakfast for another walk,’ Alastair said with a small smile that made Thomas’ heart race. He hoped he wasn’t showing that. Would Alastair suspect Thomas liked him, now that he knew Thomas was gay? He wasn’t sure if he wanted Alastair to. If Alastair returned his feelings, sure. But if not, what if Alastair would retreat in his shell again, what if he didn’t want to be his friend anymore?

‘See you tomorrow,’ Thomas said. ‘Good night.’

Thomas didn’t sleep well that night. He dreamt of a castle, surrounded by dark forest. He didn’t know where he was, or what was happening. On a surface level, it didn’t even seem so scary but a voice inside Thomas was telling him to run as fast as he could to get away from there, yet he couldn’t move. He wasn’t sure what he was running from exactly, but he woke up drenched in sweat at six in the morning. He didn’t feel rested exactly, but didn’t think he’d fall asleep again, so instead he changed the sheets on his bed and took a quick shower before putting on some clothes.

It would probably be some time until Alastair showed up, so Thomas made breakfast, and took his time to eat before settling in the garden. Gnomes were early risers, and Thomas liked watching them run around. Here they weren’t used to being seen though, and any indication that Thomas did see resulted in them running away and hiding, peeking out of the bushes on occasion to see if he was still there. Thomas put out a plate of cookies, perhaps they would become more trusting to humans who could see them overtime.

He sat there, reading a book Lucie had given him a while back. Ever since Thomas had told her he liked boys, Lucie had recommended books about queer men and right now he was reading Winter’s Orbit, a science fiction story about two men in an arranged political marriage. The amount of miscommunication and hopeless pining was almost painful to read, but also enjoyable. Thomas guessed he wasn’t much better, he still had no idea how to tell Alastair how he felt. Hopefully, he could finish the book before dying, he desperately wanted to know if these two could figure out their feelings for each other before it was too late.

‘What are you reading?’

Thomas looked up to see Alastair, dressed in a black Metallica t shirt and black jeans. He summarized the book he was reading.

‘It was a gift from Lucie,’ he said.

‘It sounds interesting,’ Alastair said. ‘I like books with some political drama. Can I borrow it when you finish?’

‘Sure. And in case I don’t get to finish it, I’ll write you into my will and leave you this book.’

Alastair groaned. ‘Please do not make jokes about you dying.’

Thomas sometimes felt like making jokes about it was the only way to cope. In reality, the idea that he was very likely to die was terrifying, even if the people around him kept assuring him he was going to be fine.

‘Sorry. I hope you’ll like this book. Although… one of the main characters was abused by a previous partner. Would that be an issue?’

Alastair tilted his head. ‘I think then maybe I should wait until I read it. That’s difficult with reading fiction, not all authors offer content warnings and going in unprepared can be devastating. When I know it’s coming… It’s easier, but I’m not sure if I want to do that right now solely to read a book.’

Thomas nodded. ‘I can imagine. If you want any books that don’t have topics that are triggering for you, I’ll try and see if I have anything. Or you can ask Lucie.’

‘I’ll think about it. Being able to read fiction while being prepared through content warnings is something I’m trying to work towards. No idea how long that will take, according to my therapist I’m too impatient. You coming? This early, there might still be some hedgehogs,’ Alastair said with a grin.

‘You really like hedgehogs,’ Thomas pointed out.

‘When I was a child I wanted one for a pet, but my parents didn’t think that was a good idea. Instead, I could have a goldfish. They’re very popular in Iran, people get them for the Persian new year celebration, Nowruz. People usually release them into a river or pond after the celebration, so that’s what Risa did. My parents weren’t too happy about it. At the time, I believed he would probably be happier there anyway than in a bowl, but it is likely he died within days. I don’t think it’s good for the environment either, and many Iranians are pushing back against the tradition because of that. Did you have pets growing up?’

‘Most of my childhood, because I was so sick, my parents didn’t think it was a good idea. They were afraid a pet might carry diseases I would be more vulnerable to,’ Thomas said. ‘But I hope I can adopt cats someday. And Barbara and Oliver have two guinea pigs.’

‘My cousin Jem has a cat,’ Alastair said. ‘Little beast hates everyone, but adores Jem.’

‘Do you see him often?’ Thomas asked. ‘Jem, I mean.’

‘Not really. My father never wanted him near our family, I think because he was afraid Jem would see right through him. But now that we don’t live with Father anymore, I see him occasionally. He offered me to come live with him, but I’m not sure. I still feel like I barely know him.’

They didn’t find any hedgehogs during their walk, presumably because the fog had gotten so thick they wouldn’t see any if they were there. Although Thomas was fairly certain they were taking the same route they had yesterday and during their first walk, everything looked different. He told himself it was probably the fog, but he couldn’t quite convince himself.

‘I don’t remember these ruins,’ Alastair said.

Thomas’ followed Alastair’s gaze and saw the ruins of a very old building. Of course, there were lots of old castles in Scotland, but Thomas hadn’t read anything about ruins in these woods.

‘Do you think we should take a look?’ he asked carefully. ‘I’m not seeing anything unusual.’

‘Apart from ruins that weren’t here yesterday?’

‘We must have taken a different path,’ Thomas said.

‘Sure,’ Alastair said and Thomas didn’t think he believed it. ‘Under normal circumstances, I would not take another step, but if we are to save your life we need information. Perhaps those ruins hold something of interest.’

#Thomas Lightwood #Alastair Carstairs #Cordelia Carstairs #Lucie Herondale #Thomastair #Lucelia #fic #fanfiction #the last hours #tlh

[sunsetcurvecuddles]

Willex, stay

anon this accidentally played into the fact that i’ve been thinking about touch starved willie nonstop for weeks. so. here you go. sorry it got long lol “a lil something” this ended up 1.5k words so it’s now available on ao3 as well

(send me a ship and a word and i’ll write you a lil something for clowngate // completed prompts)

Things have been weird, since Willie moved in.

Not bad weird, Willie doesn’t think. Or, a little bad weird. But everything was going to be bad-weird, after what happened with Caleb, anyway. He’s trying to move on as best he can, but there’s a lot of adjustment at once, after he meets Julie and she breaks his curse and suddenly he is - as far as he can tell - a regular teenaged boy again, alive and well, able to graze his knees if he tumbles off his skateboard.

(Yes, he learned that the hard way).

Usually, Willie’s good with change. He likes life to stay fresh, and exciting. It’s just that sometimes he looks around the Molina’s spare room, with its cozy blue bedsheets and little bookshelf on the wall, and thinks about Ray Molina’s kind eyes and the way he’s basically adopted four ghosts that he knew nothing about prior to this out of the sheer goodness of his heart. Willie wonders if he’s stepping on people’s toes, by being here. If he’s in the way.

Everyone else knows each other so well already, is all, and he can’t help but suspect that maybe they resent him for causing all this trouble in the first place, no matter how many times Alex and Julie assure him that’s not the case. He just doesn't feel like he can ask for anything, since they've given him so much already.

And Willie also has this weird sort of pain, maybe leftover from his curse, maybe his soul being a little battered and sore. But it’s this ache that sits just under his rib cage, that thuds with his heart, and that won’t shift. He lies awake at night and feels it, like a very blunt dagger, or a really cold stone. Sinking deeper and deeper in him, like his chest is a bottomless pool of water.

It’s not all bad. Ray lets him skateboard in the little courtyard outside the garage, when he doesn’t feel like going far. He hangs out in the loft and sketches in a book Julie got him, as he listens to her and the boys rehearse. They sound amazing, and getting to watch Alex is Willie’s favourite thing. He looks so relaxed, when he’s drumming, so unselfconscious. Like Alex finally sees, in himself, the Alex that Willie sees all the time.

He just wishes Alex would be that Alex around Willie, again. The way he was before. Alex treats him so carefully now, so tentatively, like any wrong move could make Willie flinch.

Maybe Willie just flinches more than he used to. Maybe it’s not all Alex’s fault.

--

The ache is back, and Willie’s lying awake, and staring at the ceiling, and wondering why Ray Molina has a copy of The Communist Manifesto in his guest room, when Alex appears at the door. Not literally appears, as in poofs in, but appears by poking his head through the gap Willie left and saying, “Hey, are you still awake?”

Willie looks over at him. Alex is clearly dressed for bed (it’s weird, having to sleep again after all these years), and his blonde hair is all shaggy and in his eyes.

For some reason, the pain in Willie’s chest deepens further. Maybe it is because of the curse. He knows how furious Caleb was about his feelings for Alex. How threatened he felt by them.

“Yeah,” Willie says, belatedly, when Alex gives him a stranger look than normal. “I mean. Apparently.”

“Can I come in?”

Willie nods, sitting up and shuffling his legs up so there’s room for Alex to sit on the end of the bed, which he delicately does.

“I just wanted to check on you,” Alex tells him, folding his hand in his lap and looking up at the roof, the way Willie was moments ago. Willie is looking now at the distance between his toes and Alex’s thigh.

In the past, he never would have hesitated to just tuck his cold feet under the legs of a boy he liked. In fact, that sounds exactly like the kind of thing Willie-from-before would do. He’s just not Willie-from-before any more.

Usually good with change. Not sure how he feels about this change.

“Check on me?” he asks. Still looking at his feet, and Alex’s pajama-clad leg, and Alex’s hands in his lap, now. Wishing he was holding one of Alex’s hands.

God, his chest hurts. It makes him feel shaky.

“You’ve been... quiet?” Alex offers, and then cringes at himself like he regrets the word choice, his beautiful eyebrows pulling together, his beautiful mouth pulling to the side, his beautiful nose framed by the light from the hallway, streaming in through the gap in the half-open door. “Not that you can’t be quiet! Not that you were loud before, either, just...”

Not yourself.

Alex doesn’t have to say it. Willie knows already. His throat feels tight, and man, he doesn’t want to cry in front of Alex, that would be such a shitty thing, after all of this. “I’m sorry,” Willie says softly, though he’s not even exactly sure what he’s apologising for.

Maybe for not being as much fun as he was before. For being yet another thing Alex has to worry about, now, instead of being somewhere Alex doesn’t have to worry about anything.

For some reason, those are the words that break Alex, that make him impulsive.  It’s like he moves before he thinks, when he puts his hand on Willie’s knee, squeezes tight. His other hand he moves to Willie’s cheek, cupping his jaw, tilting his head up so they can look at each other properly. “Please don’t be sorry. None of this is your fault.”

The feeling of Alex’s hands burns and soothes all at once, and something in Willie breaks. The floodgates stored in his ribcage burst, the pain overwhelming and then washing away, and he feels the tears spilling over before he has a chance to stop or hide them. He can’t remember the last time someone touched him like this, so gently, with such kindness.

Oh. Yeah, he can. It was Alex, then, too.

“Shit,” Alex exclaims softly, trying to withdraw his hands, but that’s the last thing Willie wants, and he manages,

“Stay? Please, Alex, I can’t be-”

Okay, well, ‘alone again’ is a little melodramatic, he thinks to himself, even in the middle of his own breathless crying. No need to take it that seriously, Will. Alex is saying, “Okay, okay, I won’t go - I’m not leaving, just - what do I do? Am I helping or making it worse?”

Willie just surges forward, rolls onto his knees, and buries his face in Alex’s neck, arms around Alex’s shoulders. Alex holds him back, tight, soothes him in sounds more than words.

The pain washes away down the river. Everywhere Alex touches him, every time Alex runs a hand through Willie’s hair or down Willie’s spine, the ache recedes, reduces, dies down.

“I wanted to give you space,” Alex whispers, lips practically against his ear, the warmth like a bucket of water over Willie’s head in the best way. He’s doing some of his best overthinking, Willie can tell even through his upset. Alex is an astonishingly good multitasker. “But I gave you too much, huh? This... I should’ve been doing this.”

“You didn’t have to,” Willie says, sniffling in a truly disgusting way. “Shouldn’t have to now. Don’t want to make you worry.”

“Please make me worry,” Alex interrupts him. “Please. For once, let me play to my strengths?”

That startles a laugh out of Willie, and Alex grins, Willie can feel it against his face. Now that he’s done crying, now that they’re just sitting there holding each other, he can feel the blooming warmth inside him, the relief. The quiet.

“Better?” Alex asks.

Warmth where there was cold. Comfort where there was pain. It wasn't the curse after all, he guesses, but this is a change Willie can deal with. It’s not Caleb, haunting him still somehow. He just needed a hug. He hums his affirmation. “Can we just... stay like this, for a bit?”

“I guess so,” Alex groans, smiling, and laying back on the bed with his arm outstretched and welcoming, shaggy hair still in his pretty eyes. “I guess we can.” When Willie lays down on his arm, he says quietly, “Just. Tell me next time? If it gets like this? I just wanna help, but I can’t know what you need if you won’t ask me.”

Willie’s instinct is to brush him off, even after everything that’s happened, but the relief is still so palpable, and Alex seems so warm and genuine, and safe, like everything Willie’s ever dreamed of. Better than he deserves, for sure, but that doesn’t mean he has to say no. He’s seeing that now.

“I’ll ask,” he promises, and he means it. “I’ll ask you.”

--

part 2

part 3

#willex #jatp #netflixwewantjatp2 #julie and the phantoms #alex mercer #willie #mine #my fic #not touch starved willie... my kryptonite.... #Anonymous

[musicallisto]

hello! i’d love to request a 🍨 for pb and got if possible. i’m she/her; bi; slytherin; september virgo; infp; 4w5. i’m 5’5”, slim build and fair-skinned with dark brown hair and the same colour eyes. as for my personality, i can be quite cold and reserved when i first meet people (which doesn’t really come out online) and i have a hard time trusting anyone new, but i truly love those closest to me. i use sarcasm 90% of the time and love teasing people but my intentions have nothing to do with hurting anyone. i subconsciously use laughter as a defence mechanism and i hate it. i’m lowkey a rebel which is just a nicer word for family disappointment. i have intense mood swings which i cope with by bottling up my emotions. i’d rather listen to people’s problems than talk about my own. despite the cold exterior, i can be soft and kind, and i believe in freedom and equality. i’m ambitious and love learning but not in the way school is trying to force me to - ew. my hobbies include reading books 24/7, writing (much less of the time, but hey, i still get around to it every once in a while) and watching tv shows. i’m also a cinephile and you can trust me with a list of recommendations for your next movie night.

i do hope this is enough; thank you very much fren xx

here’s your vanilla milkshake, Réka, and thank you for your patience! I think you would be amazing with these two incredible women - sansa stark and ada shelby!

You had been Sansa’s friend for as long as you could remember.

Social differences didn’t matter in the North as much as they did in the South, especially because the Lords of Winterfell had always been close to their people.

So despite the fact that she was highborn and proudly bore the name of the Starks, and you were a tanner’s daughter from Winterfell, your friendship with Sansa had never been frowned upon.

Especially since Ned clearly saw how much fun his daughter had with you. You were the only person she could be seen getting a little muddy and mischievous with. You weren’t true troublemakers, of course, especially not since Arya was the point of reference... but you had your moments of mindless fun.

Being best friends with Sansa was effortless; you hadn’t had to warm up to her, because you had always been close confidantes to one another. She understood everything about you, even when you didn’t say a word...

... but during your teenage years, when you both came of age and other townsfolk your age started discussing boys and flings, a pang of desire started to blossom inside of you and course through your veins.

Maybe you wanted more than to simply be Sansa’s best friend, after all.

Maybe there was more to the way you found yourself staring into her deep, blue eyes like they were the only color worthy of attention...

When Sansa announces that she is to leave for King’s Landing and marry Joffrey, you get into a pretty heated argument, the first you’ve had in more than ten years of friendship.

Part of you is reasonably upset that she kept a news so important a secret from you for so long; and another part of you is mortified and furious at the idea of her going to the capital and becoming Queen to the arm of a petty little brute as snotty as Joffrey Baratheon...

... when she could have stayed at Winterfell and, perhaps, one day, have made you Lady right alongside her.

You’d been bottling up your feelings for her for quite a while and didn’t know how to deal with them - terrified of rejection, but also of not acting out on them and lose her to another... and when she told you she would be leaving, it was like both nightmares coming true at once. There was no use anymore in snarky side remarks, and you exploded from sheer frustration and fright.

Obviously, she couldn’t possibly comprehend why you were so mad about her not telling you all about her family business - which was more about political affairs, anyway -, so you couldn’t sort out your disagreement,

and gave each other the cold shoulder for a few days.

Until the last night before her departure for the South with her father, where you snuck into the castle courtyard to say your farewells and bid her well - fearing you would not be able to if front of everyone on the following morning

And when she came down to meet you with a frown on her heavenly face, the words escaped your mouth before you could control them; they had been a long time coming, but at least they were out and you would not have to carry your secret to the tomb.

And she wanted to get mad at you for getting on your high horse and blowing up when you could have just as easily told her the truth...

... but she’s so elated that her feelings are reciprocated

... that even if she’s leaving for a place of appearances and to be auctioned off to the highest bidder, at least she knows there exists someone outside of her family who sincerely loves her and will always care for her

... and that there exists a world in which you love her and she loves you and that she just happens to live in this world

... that she just kissed you underneath the moonlight, desperate to get a taste of the last element of realness and familiarity that she’d keep to memory.

Of course, going to the capital and to Court had always been her biggest dream, but when she held you in her arms, she wasn’t so sure anymore it was worth leaving you behind.

“So you’re still going?”

“I have to.”

“I wish I could go with you.”

“I’ll be back. I promise I’ll do what it takes to return to the North and find you again.”

A Stark always followed through with their promises; that much you knew.

Ada and you are passionate about the same things, namely freedom and equality, which makes it easy for you two to hit it off.

You meet at a communist rally, where you’re instantly impressed by and drawn to her strong voice and stronger convictions. She doesn’t talk excessively, but isn’t unafraid to make her voice heard and opinions known.

From your very first meeting, you get a glimpse of how utterly devoted and dedicated to the cause Ada is, and that is even before recognizing her as a Shelby. Though you should have figured earlier - there aren’t many people, especially not women in Birmingham, who would talk so freely and pit herself against the men.

It makes her all the more attractive to you.

Still, you don’t develop a relationship of any kind until long after you met - but she’s a regular at communist rallies and actions for the party, as are you. You end up crossing paths quite often.

She’s an incredible orator, and is brazen enough not to be intimidated by the stares of every passerby when she must deliver passionate speeches about the progressive radicality of your movement. You realize you make an excellent pair - you’re a skilled writer who can move even the most disbelieving of men with your words, and she can blow life into them like no other.

So you write her speeches and she delivers your ideas to the whole world when you’re too insecure to do it.

And you progressively fall more and more in love with her, with how confident and blunt and daring she is.

She loves how well-read you are, too, and she tells you often the world would be a better place if it were filled with women like you, bright and selfless, not these greedy, idiot men who tear each other apart in pointless wars...

You relate so much to the experience of being perceived as a rebel simply for being a family outcast, it’s another bonding point between the two of you.

You don’t necessarily display a lot of affection when you’re together - partly because your relationship would cause quite the scandal if it came to light, but mostly because it’s just not your type.

You both can be quite swept up by the passion, especially when you're still on the adrenaline high from a chase from the cops or one of those Shelby businesses, which will often culminate in breathless, frenzied kisses in an alleyway...

... but the rest of the time, you’re more about sarcastic comments and a little bit of “tough love”.

Though you are fascinated by the relatively modern invention that is cinema in Birmingham, and on the rare occasion you have time and peace of mind enough to go to the “moving pictures”, Ada will, of course, come with...

... and it will most likely include sneaking into the projectionist’s room, a friend of yours from the party, and making out in there for most of the duration of the film.

800 follower sleepover CLOSED!

#bohemianpages #800sleepover #ship request #peaky blinders #peaky blinders headcanons #ada shelby #ada shelby headcanons #ada shelby x reader #game of thrones #game of thrones imagine #got imagine #game of thrones headcanons #got headcanons #sansa stark #sansa stark headcanons #sansa stark x reader #(i'm in a pretty good mood today; i watered my plant and was like you know what? i should write) #(so i hope you like this!)

[depressedacadamia]

Sore Losers

A/N: This was meant to be a simple one shot but I couldn’t help myself and now it’s a twoshot because I’m extra af. I hope you enjoy it and please comment!

Summary: Percy and Annabeth are both the most competitve people to ever exist by far. So when they both lead teams in a match of Capture the Flag Paintball edition, a very fun game ends up becoming a battle. Annabeth and Percy also happen to be the biggest pair of sore losers out there. 

Word count: 3.8K

Tagging: @showtunesandsolangelo

Chapter I

Let it be known that Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase were both the biggest pair of sore losers on this side of the Atlantic. You’d think that a large group of teenagers at a paintballing park would cause a lot of trouble. Yes, yes they would indeed. But not nearly as much trouble a group of traumatised teenage demigods could cause.

They had 1 rule- don't use any powers.

However, the demigods were never really much good at following rules.

Percy promised Annabeth that his team would win and Annabeth, unable to help herself, boasted back how amazing her team were going to be. It was quite obvious how their fatal flaws- hubris and loyalty- were going to be their downfall in a game of paintball.

“Oi! You two stop flirting and get on the damned bus, would you!” Piper shouted from the window seat with Hazel to her. The yellow bus was warm due to the sunny weather outside and it smelt like teenagers.

“We aren’t flirting!” Annbeth protested violently as she threw her sports bag over her shoulder while climbing the steps. Percy, being the gentleman he was, took the bag off her shoulder and carried it for her- not that it was truly hard.

“Even I can tell that you’re flirting,” Leo called out from the back where his fingers idly fiddled with some copper wire, a battery and a nail- it seemed like he was making an electromagnet.

“Can you blame me if Percy thinks his team is going to win Pipes?” Annabeth turned around in her seat.

“That’s because we are going to win,” Will commented with a hint of sarcasm from the side of the bus where Percy’s team sat. Nico, who sat next to Reyna and was on Annabeth’s team, was more invested in fidgeting with his rings until Will spoke up.

“Says you, traitor,” He snorted.

“Death boy, it’s a game. You chose Annabeth's team- it would be unfair if we were on the same team. Besides, If anything, I should be upset. You chose Annabeth's team after I chose Percy’s!”

Nico refused to answer, his arm clinging to Reyna who barely took notice and smirked at the boy’s ego’s.

“How sad must it be that you genuinely believe that you will win?” Reyna was about to sheath her spear when Hazel put her hand on hers.

“Reyna! We aren’t allowed to bring weapons. We need to prove we can beat them without weapons!” Hazel argued.

“Having second thoughts over there?” Frank called out from beside Jason. Hazel stuck her tongue out at him- he pulled a funny face in return. While these two were considered the most mature, when they were talking to each other, they were no better than 5 year olds.

The venue was huge. It was like an abandoned forest with upside down vehicles, camo everywhere and at least 3 places to get perfectly shot in the head- not that it was allowed. There was a specific reason behind the demigods choosing to go paintballing- they were never trained to use guns. It was something that none of them were familiar in, thus they were all at a completely fair level. Had they been sword fighting, they would have all destroyed each other. They had to pull on protection suits- which were also camouflage.

“Okay, this is to capture the flag but in paintball. You’re all familiar with capturing the flag- the only difference here is instead of our regular weapons, today we have these peculiar things…” Calypso trailed off slightly.

“Guns,” Hazel and Nico finished off together. The entire squad gave an alarmed look at them saying Why in the name of Hades do you know that? In sync, they both replied.

“World War 1,” Hazel sighed.

“Hitler,” Nico grunted, kicking at the floor. A couple of scattered snorts came from the group who could not picture them in the 1900s.

“Enough enemy mingling! Comrades, let us unite to beat the Owls!” Percy commanded his group comedically. Nico raised his eyebrow at the communist joke while everyone laughed slightly.

“I see you’ve learnt something in History- let’s find out if your seaweed brain can figure out how to surrender shall we?” Annabeth challenged as she took steps towards Percy, her hands resting on her hips confidently- Her hubris was showing. She half expected Percy to slip his hand around her waist or try and show off like she did but instead, he turned to his team and began frantically whispering.

The game was so on.

“Okay, this is it. We go in, storm the boys and capture their flag,” Annabeth decided.

“And don't forget to shoot as many of them as you can!” Piper added and the group happily agreed.

“Okay Comrades, Mission ‘infiltrate’ the owls is about to end- when we meet at what I like to call No man's land, we shall take their flag while they attempt to take ours. Will, guard our flag- the rest of you, position ourselves in the formation we discussed earlier. Jason and Leo, you’re my backup soldiers if I’m down,” Percy announced. The boys nodded and prepared for the plan.

Annabeth was crouching, gun in hand with Hazel behind her. Annabeth's blonde hair made her stand out a bit whereas Hazel had a greater advantage- from a vantage point, one wouldn’t even be able to see her. As Annabeth approached through the clearing she froze. Up ahead was a dangerous place. No bushes, no trees, no cars- she’d be totally exposed to whatever Percy was plotting. She did not doubt that he had some person watching this area, ready to release fire on any enemies. Annabeth was going to wait, she crouched by the bush before the clearing and kept her gun pointed and her eyes on the lookout.

She was about to move when paint balls began exploding all around her. The sound ricocheted in her ears and the droplets of paint remained floating about in the air. The boys had planned an ambush! Annabeth knew she had 2 options- retreat and play defensive or attack and play offensive.

“Hazel, you’re in charge. Nico, you’re coming with me. Make sure Reyna is still guarding the flag!” She whisper- shouted as she began running across No Mans Land with Nico trailing close behind her. He may or may not have been using his powers to bring shards of earth encased in shadows to protect himself and Annabeth from the shower of paintballs heading towards them. Nobody really needed to know- besides, he was forbidden from using death powers, not earthly ones.

“Nico, I hear something,” Annabeth warned. The sound of crackling and rushing water surrounded them.

“It’s coming from the creak…,” Nico mumbled.

They both made eye contact, agreeing on a time to run. 3 ,2 ,1- Now! They began sprinting, dodging the rocks and the flames which were scattered across the field. The other team were really going all out and being ruthless. Leo had set half of their frontier on fire that was only being controlled by the fact that Percy had a lot of water coming in from the creak preventing the fire from spreading too far. Flashes of light came striking down on the trees, causing crackles in the trees. There were echoes of thunder rumbling throughout their section and the smell of carbon monoxide slowly rising into the air.

The tree that had been struck by lightning was causing an awful mount of crackling, a bit too much for comfort. It wasn’t until the distinct sound of a tree snapping did Annabeth and Nico realise that the tree in front of them was falling.

Directly. Onto. them.

Back at Annabeth's side of the frontier, Hazel had decided to play dirty and get powers involved. It was only fair, was it not? Piper, Reyna and Calypso were all very happy to oblige to this. They had restructured their battle plan with Piper guarding the flag and using her charmspeak if necessary. Hazel, Calypso and Reyna were at the front, using their powers to their advantage. Reyna had not decided to use her empowerment- it wasn’t necessary and it was never comforting knowing she had made her friends feel brave; she felt like she was manipulating them whenever she did use it.

“So Hazel, what were you saying about not using weapons?” Reyna raised an eyebrow as she impressively pulled out her spear of imperial gold, glimmering in the sunlight. Hazel who sheathed her Spatha simply shrugged.

“Calypso are you ready?” Hazel asked, slightly concerned- she didn't want to overwork her so quickly after she had only just started to get her magic back.

“You think I’m going to let Leo win?” She scoffed slightly as she raised her hands slightly, the magical aura around them visible.

“We have a battle to win,” Reyna announced.

Nico grabbed onto Annabeth and closed his eyes. She felt herself slip into the darkness with Nico- the moment was awful. Dark, cold and creepy whisperings surrounded her. She did not want to know how Nico was able to do that. As he pulled them out the shadows, Nico dropped to his knees, trying to catch his breath. His eyes looked significantly tired post- shadow travelling.

“Don’t tell Will, he’ll go crazy if he found out that I shadow travelled,” he said weakly, his hand clutching his ribs. Annabeth slowly helped him up to his feet, only one gun still with the both of them- Nico had dropped his when he had to shadow travel them.

“Nico, I’ve got another plan if you’re up for it,” Annabeth offered. She leaned over and whispered her strategy. The corners of Nico’s lips twisted upwards into a cruel smile- cold and menacing. Was this plan extremely dangerous if one part went wrong? Probably. But Nico decided he liked the idea of winning too much to really care.

He dug his feet into the ground again, pushing every ounce of energy into controlling the shadows. He needed to keep this accurate- too much and Hazel’s side of the field goes dark, too little and Percy’s team will be able to see what's coming.

Slowly, shadows covered every inch of Percy’s field. Nico and Annabeth were grasping onto each other, Nico was holding onto her for strength while Annabeth was staying with the only person who could control what was happening. The only light that was visible were the fires ignited by Leo but by now, they were weak. All they had to do was wait for a figure to light up their hands- all the members would flock to the light, except whoever was protecting the flag.

“What just happened?” Percy yelled as he followed the stream of water that led to the fires.

“Someone’s using their powers… probably Nico, I can hear whisperings and these shadows are really cold!” Leo responded, lifting his hands up to signal his location to his teammates- though that may have not been a good idea. A giant flash of light came striking down to the ground again and the loud rumble of thunder came soon after, only adding to the creepiness of the game.

“It’s definitely Nico using powers which means he’s somehow gotten through our borders,” Jason gritted out. They all looked at each other agreeing to search for the son of Hades.

“Nico, you can summon the skeletons now, right?” Annabeth asked as she supported Nico on her shoulder. Feebly, Nico nodded while trying to summon some of his own strength. His skin which had almost returned to it’s olive hue was now close to a deathly pale. Annabeth could feel his cold fingers and slightly shivered- it was like holding a corpse. The ground started cracking, the earth splitting open as a skeletal arm reached out, climbing into the real world. Within a minute, Nico had summoned enough skeletons for the plan to work.

Annabeth knew what had to happen next- she would either run after the flag or go drive the remainder of Percy’s team far back enough so that her team could attack them from behind. She cherished the idea of getting the flag, a truly victorious moment, but she knew that if she went after the flag, she’d be sending Nico who seemed as fragile as glass right now to go fight 4 of the most powerful demigods. She decided to take her chances- hopefully whoever was guarding the flag wasn’t too hard for Nico.

“Nico, here take the gun and go after the flag. I will push back the other team.”

“I don’t need that- you’re going to be 4 against one, take it.” He batted his hand, refusing to allow Annabeth to hand over her gun to him.

“Nic-”

“-If you want to actually win this, you need your gun. You don’t stand a chance fighting 4 of them alone. Take the gun,” He managed to snap. Annabeth actually smiled at this. If Nico could give her snappy comebacks, then he still had a bit of strength in him. She kept her gun as she ran into the shadows, the skeleton army close behind.

“Does the other side look kinda funny?” Hazel asked, tilting her head to the side with her spatha in hand.

“It’s...it’s dark. I can't see anything there,” Calypso responded, slightly shocked.

What in the name of the gods was going on over there?

It seemed that the answer hit Reyna and Hazel at the same time- Nico! Not that they were about to admit it, but they were a tad concerned- you know, if you saw pure shadows just floating about, you would also be slightly concerned.

“We should move ourselves further up the frontier into No Mans Land. Annabeth must have planned something with Nico.” Calypso announced. They all agreed and moved further downwards, cautious for any ambushes.

“Oh Annabeth, aren’t you meant to be the smart one? You know, daughter of Athena?” Percy mockingly asked as she approached them, the shadows encasing most of her but not enough to go unnoticed. The skeletons however, were hiding perfectly in the dark.

“And where is the little shit?” Jason looked around Annabeth, trying to see if Nico had hid himself among the shadows- something that wouldn’t be too hard for him.

“Technically this is cheating,” Leo pointed out. Annabeth snapped her head towards him, still wondering where the skeletons were.

“We weren’t the ones who started it- if I remember correctly, you literally almost crushed us under a tree.”

“That was an accident,” Jason sheepishly rubbed his head.

“Don't think you can walk in here without being defeated, Wise girl.”

“If all 4 of you are going to fight me, I think all guns should be prohibited- does that sound fair Jackson?”

“3. All 3 of us. Frank has been… patrolling.” Leo rubbed his hands mysteriously. Annabeth wanted to gasp, they had been cheating from the beginning, using Frank as surveillance on them.

“Well since you were cheating from the very beginning, you definitely cannot use your guns,” Annabeth protested, enforcing her plan. The boy shrugged and threw their guns to the floor- Annabeth did the same but the gun was still close enough for… a change of heart. Fire raged from Leo’s hands, Percy had Riptide in hand and Jason had his Gladius, the charge of lighting running through it. Annabeth had to try to not visibly gulp- Where on earth were the skeletons? Here getting toasted was not part of the plan. She could only start to take them one when the distraction was set.

Nico forcibly pushed his foot one in front of another, searching for the flag. The entire half of the arena was covered like a blanket. The only light source being Leo’s fire and the occasional fires that Nico let loose through the ground to help him see. Up head, Nico could see another light source- did he just walk himself into a circle? He couldn’t see Leo or any fires. In fact all he really saw was light.

Light?

He trudged forwards, keeping to the shadows. As he got closer, he realised the light source was Will- his skin was the lightsource, literally. It was like he was watching a firefly for the first time- Will was glowing! No, focus Nico. The game, the flag. Capture it and reign victorious with Annabeth.

“Frank, dude, get off my shoulder,” Jason said. As the hand remained on his shoulder, Jason grew slightly agitated and turned around before jumping back and letting out a scream of surprise. Catching the attention of Percy and Leo, the skeletons began to close in on them. Now was Annabeth's chance. While the skeletons pushed them back, hopefully Hazel would have the team ready for an ambush on all sides.

“You’re very shiny today,” Nico commented.

“Well if you didn’t plunge us into semi- eternal darkness, I wouldn’t be a night light,” Will retorted crossing his arms.

“I’ve always wanted my own personal nightlight. Also now, I have an actual justification to call you sunshine- you’re literally glowing.”

“Quit laughing at me.”

“I’m not laughing at you… I’m just stealing,” Nico shrugged as he made a dash for the flag. Will scrambled for his gun but it was too late, Nico had pulled the flag into the shadows- the paintballs from Will’s gun had only hit the tree that Nico had once stood in front of. As Nico emerged from his travelling, the shadows that once covered the entire field started fading.

With their guns strapped to their backs, Hazel and the team made their way across No Mans Land- trying to avoid the shower of paintballs from the other side.

“You made a machine gun out of this?” Hazel asked in dismay as she dodged the fireball coming from Leo.

“I am Admiral Leo, of course I made a machine gun, Hazel.”

“Hazel, on your left!”

Hazel swiftly ducked a paintball coming her left which proceeded to hit Leo square in the chest. He groaned as he felt the bruise start to form across his chest. Saddened by getting hit, he fell to the ground dramatically.

“Oh I’m wounded! Tell Calypso I might not make it!”

“Tell her yourself,” a voice snorted. Jason and Reyna were both fighting- Jason’s gladius would come down harshly onto Reyna’s spear, who continuously tried to disarm him. When Jason came down again with his sword, Reyna twisted her spear towards the hilt and pushed the butt of her spear upwards successfully disarming the sword with a clatter from his hands. She placed her foot on the sword and kicked it backwards, away from Jason before she dropped her spear.

“Hand to hand?” Jason asked. Reyna did not reply and instead charged towards him.

Calypso was trying to not get set on fire- while Leo had been shot, he was not about to let her win so easily. Her magic could only do so much and it annoyed her that Leo was setting everything on fire.

“Calypso, don’t you have telekinesis?” Annabeth shouted nodding towards Leo as she dodged another slash from Percy. Calypso got the memo and closed her eyes, harvesting as much power as she could. Being an ex-titaness came with it’s privileges from time to time. She opened her eyes and flung her hands towards Leo. Easily, she threw him into the creek where he landed with an ‘oomph’ and a very loud curse word that will not be repeated.

Piper hated being the guard. Everyone was probably having a blast and here she was, away from the action. There was a buzzing noise that was annoying her and she really did not want to deal with it. She had one of her daggers clutched in her hand while the gun was slung over her shoulder. She had gotten so bored that she had resorted to talking to the crow opposite her who had just sat there. It would tilt its head every once in a while when she said anything that could be deemed controversial.

Suddenly, the crow flew towards her, as to rest on her shoulder but instead, went towards the flag. Nothing wrong there, just a crow going towards a flag. Afterall it wasn’t as if it was trying to pull it out of the ground. Just as Piper turned around to see what the crow was really doing, she caught Frank with his hand wrapped around the flag, smiling and saluting towards her as he turned around and ran, flag in hand. Piper swore she had run as fast she ever had in her entire life, trying to get her charmspeak to work. The panting did not help her.

Annabeth slashed her knife in Percy’s direction, missing him by a millimeter as he stepped back to avoid it. Riptide came back at her, instead of it going for a blow to the chest as she expected, Percy aimed for her feet. As he wanted, she tripped and fell but her knife was still in hand. Just as she was about to use it, Riptide was held under her chin- she could feel the cool metal of it as Percy smirked and lightly teased her neck with it.

“You know Miss Brainiac, you really have yourself in a bad position, giving up would be easy, wouldn't it?”

“Jackson, you are enjoying this too much. I think you’ve forgotten the point.” Annabeth grabbed Riptide and twisted it before roling backwards slightly and throwing herself forwards. The sword clattered to the ground making Percy pout slightly but he wasn’t disheartened. Annabeth backslashed towards Percy who grabbed her arm, rendering the weapon in hand useless.

Annabeth had one last plan.

She leaned forwards and pressed her lips against Percy. It was quick and daring and Percy certainly did not expect it. Their lips met gently- it was comforting, warm and soft. Their lips brushed and when she pulled away lightly, he could taste her chapstick.

“Ouch!” Percy yelped as he jumped away from Annabeth and let go of her wrist. She held the knife under his chin and winked at Nico who held the gun with the flag under his arm. There was a giant yellow splatter on his back.

“That's not fair!” Percy sputtered. “ You seduced me!”

“All's fair in love and war.” Annabeth winked.

“I’ve got it! I’ve got the flag!” Frank gasped slightly- mainly due to being out of breath. He looked at Jason who was on the ground, Leo who was soaking, Percy who had a massive paintball splatter on his back and then at Nico who was holding the flag.

“We planned this. To make you win. We were taking it easy on you guys,” Frank decided. All the boys nodded in agreement only making Annabeth's teams chuckle.

#pjo fanfic #annabeth chase #percy jackson #percabeth #nico di angelo #will solace #solangelo #hoo fanfic #percy jackson fanfic #jason grace #reyna ramirez arellano #Piper mclean #leo valdez #Calypso #caleo #hazel levesque #frank zhang #frazel #paintballing #capture the flag #pjo textposts #pjo incorrect quotes #pjo headcannons #heroes of olympus

[awesomerextyphoon]

A Warrior’s Heart | Phase 1: Welcome – 3

A Hero’s Welcome?

Summary: When someone with a connection to Steve’s past dies, he’s reminded of the promise he made to Dr. Erskine and whether or not he’s failed. Can Ife help him see that he hasn’t?

Characters: Steve Rogers, Ifekerenma ‘Ife’, Abraham Erskine (mentioned), Marlene Erskine (mentioned), Nick Fury, Eliza Maza, Azeneth Ramirez

Main Pairing: Stucky x Black!OFC (Ifekerenma ‘Ife’)

Rating: 18+/Explicit

Word Count: 5,801

Warnings: Depression, Talk of Death, Slightly Cynical Steve, Politics, Smutty Thoughts

A/N: I’m sorry that this so long. I really wanted to try something different with Erskine and the time around CA:TFA. Also, I wanted to explore how Steve would be feeling right after AoU (little bit of a downer, but it will get better). Furthermore, this story will diverge a bit from MCU in terms of Steve’s and Bucky’s abilities. Feedback is welcomed and greatly appreciated. Dividers were by the lovely @firefly-graphics​. Thanks to @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog​ for the beta!

Series Masterlist

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Early June 2015

“What do you have to report, Ifekerenma?”

Ife pursed her lips together,”Wanda is doing well with her training. Djamila and Nazaret had some sung her praises during their first session.”

It took a few days to convince the team and Fury to let her friends train Wanda. Luckily Nat had her back and Wanda was able to show the compound how much she improved from what Ife was able to teach her. Unfortunately, Azeneth was unable to make it due to being tied up with a BNA mission and relocating to the NYC division.

“That’s good to hear. Have you made made any progress with the others?”

Ife’s eyes casted down in thought. Vision was a no-go for now. Pietro was warming up to her, but he thought she was still suspicious (wasn’t wrong). She didn’t want to try Rhodey yet (too close to Tony). Nat was..difficult; she’ll try again later.

“I’m going to try Steve next. He seems like a safe bet, even with the serum. Hopefully, he won’t catch before it’s time. I will need Erskine’s folder though.”

Eliza’s lips turned upward in a small smile, “Agreed. I’ll have it sent to you within the hour. Best of luck, Ife.”

And with that, Ife got dressed and headed towards the common room.

  Steve leaned back and clasped his hands together behind his head in thought and vexation.

The 21st century must be fucking with him.

Right after Operation ‘Captain Briar Rose’, Steve went to Brooklyn. He could barely find any trace of his old neighborhood. The apartment complex where he and his mother lived was now a ritzy condominium with a Starbucks on the ground level.

All of the places he’d go with Bucky were now soulless veneers filled with empty promises of ‘happiness’ or ‘self-esteem’.

He remembered the time Bucky bailed him out of yet another beating by Arnie and his gang back in 1928. His mother berated him for getting in yet another fight while Bucky’s mom laughed and treated them to ice cream from the local sweets parlor. Bucky’s sisters – Rebecca, Rose, and Annabelle – were making a fuss and bursted out in giggles when Annabelle got ice cream in Bucky’s hair. It was one of the best days that year.

A T-Mobile now stands in its place.

All of his friends and comrades save Bucky and Peggy are dead; he nearly bawled in the middle of briefing when found out that Timothy ‘Dum Dum’ Dugan died and had a cry alone in his quarters afterwards.

Felt shitty about the current state of the country. It seemed as though everything has gotten worse. He found out about the Gulf, Afghanistan, and Iraq Wars. How income and wealth inequality has somehow gotten as bad as, if not worse, than the Gilded Age. Corruption has turned DC and NYC into dog and pony show.

He was furious at all of the politicians and corporations that wanted him to endorse them or their actions. They wanted Captain America’s helmet and shield to mask their heinous acts. They were the same if not worse than Senator Brandt.

Some days Steve wished SHIELD let him stay in the ice. Even worse, there were days he felt that Captain America was for an America that never was.

Nowadays, he felt even more like an anomaly.

It started when he got out of the ice. He felt a lot stronger and faster; only Thor knew the extent of it and he has to hold back a lot when fighting for fear of government asking for more of his blood. Though he suspected Ife and Natasha might be onto him.

He was a lot hungrier than before he went on ice as well. Often time, he would have late night ‘dinners’ (now it's every night), To be honest, he was a bit embarrassed at how much he ate, though the thought of pinning the blame on Ife did cross his mind. It wouldn’t work due to Ife almost never eating with the team and Sam said that he would know if Ife was the culprit. Steve suspected that Ife has been using her connections to restock the food between when he retired to his quarters and before the rest of the team came for breakfast. Also, she kept leaving him fun pop culture facts and media recommendations for the night.

Steve didn’t feel he could go to Dr. Cho since he doubted she had anything to go on in his case.

He did wonder if Ife could help him. She seemed to like helping the team and she was knowledgable about Non-Humans. Wanda’s rapid improvement in her powers and control bolstered his decision.

Sighing, Steve sat up straight in his chair and picked up the letter he received that morning. Marlene Philomena Erskine had passed away and he was invited to her funeral.

It was sad to have yet another link to his past slip from his grasp.

  Steve was finishing up another book to fight off his jitters. It was the night before the operation and he needed to have a few moments of respite from the war.

He was so engrossed in what he was reading that he failed to notice Dr. Erskine entering.

Erskine, for his part, was eyeing several books in Rogers’ makeshift bookshelf: They Odyssey, Of Mice and Men, Murder on the Orient Express, Tender is the Night, Their Eyes Were Watching God, Homage to Catalonia, and To Have and have Not.

“What do you think of the book?” Erskine asked as he sat across the startled recruit.

“Just finished. Y’think it wise to get buzzed before a major operation, sir?” Steve noted when he saw the bottle and two shot glasses on the bed.

Erskine chucked, “Calms my nerves a bit. What did you think of the book?”

Steve pressed his lips together for a moment, “It was a good read. The book had a lot of good points for something written eleven years ago.”

“What truths?”

“Well, for one thing, how technology is used to make the populace happy, but not better. The World Government found a way to get people to willingly trade self-expression, self-awareness, and their happiness for cheap happiness and comfort. Makes you wonder if the US was next, you know?”

Erskine was taken aback by his answer. It was much deeper than most of commanding officers gave if they even read the book.

Though that last sentence was interesting.

“What do you mean next?”

“Isn’t that what happened in Germany?”

Erskine sighed, “Yes and no. Most people here think Hitler came out of nowhere, but he didn’t. Not everyone in Germany was for WWI. There was a 100,000 person march in Berlin, but it didn’t matter since the Social Democratic Party failed to rise to the occasion and went along with war effort. Many were scapegoated for Germany failure, Matthias Erzberger for instance.”

“What about the Weimar Republic?”

Once again, Erskine was taken aback by Steve’s knowledge, “Weimar Germany was a great place to be creative, curious, and make new discoveries. I met my wife, Greta, in Berlin during that time. I made a lot of friends, friends I had to leave behind.”

Erskine frowned as his face darkened,”The terrible thing, my friend, was not that Hitler was dangerous, it was that either people didn’t take him as the threat he was or they wanted to use him for their own ends. The cops and judges sympathized with the Nazi Party to get one over the Socialists and Communists. Industrialists wanted to make money off of the Nazis getting into power. Even the German and International newspapers didn’t cover him with the urgency required.”

“That’s terrible.”

“Ja, and it almost happened here, didn’t it?”

Steve nodded in reference to the America First movement and the German American Bund. He still remembers getting the crap beaten out of him by the Silver Shirts when he spoke out against them a few years ago.

“So why did you choose me?”

“I suppose that is the best question.” Erskine admitted while glancing at Steve’s bookshelf, “What do you think of the Odyssey?”

Steve shrugged, “The adventures were fun, but they were just fantasy.”

“They may not be, Mein Freund. How old do you think I am?”

“Uh, mid sixties?”

Erskine laughed, “You’re too kind. I will be 94 this September,” he smiled noting Steve’s shock, “Things are not always as they seem. I come from a long line of ‘healers’ dating back to before Rome. One of them was able to ‘make a man more’. They inspired me to go into this profession.”

“Making super soldiers?”

“Medicine and bio-chemical engineering.”

“Oh”

“Did you know that you will not be first to undergo this?”

“Who was?”

“His name was Konrad Jager. He was a lot like you: small, frail, but had a great deal of courage and compassion. He was willing to fight Nazis in the streets knowing he’d lose. One day in 1930, his parents begged me to save him as the doctors had given up all hope.

I was woking on a serum that would make the body impervious to all diseases rather than wait for the next outbreak to occur. I thought it would propel the medical field.

The trial worked and he was healed. He became much taller and broader in size as a result.”

Erskine pulled out a picture of himself next to a tall, well-built young man.

“That’s Konrad isn’t it?”

“Yes. I was able to help eight more people through the earlier version of the serum. All but one turned out well.”

“What happened to the one?”

“Ah yes, Eren Kant. He was a shy young man before the serum, but then became more like Hodge: a philander, arrogant, and bit of a bully with a temper. He ‘grew too big for his britches’ as one would say and was arrested by the Munich police. He let his arrogance blind him and he escaped in a way that intrigued Der Fuhrer and was taken to Berlin soon after. By this time, rumors had spread of my work and the Nazis were anxious to be the ‘best of the Aryans’. They were able to get my whereabouts from Eren and sent Schmitt to fetch me, but I was already on my way to Switzerland when he reached my home.”

“How did he get you?”

Erskine slightly jerked his head to the side and back, “A year prior to my attempted escape, I met a man in Geneva who warned of the dangers that lied in Berlin. He gave me his card if I needed to escape. In retrospect, I shouldn’t have waited so long before I made the phone call. I was tipped off by an old colleague of Eren entering Nazi custody.

Everything was set. My family and I were to enter Switzerland by crossing Lake Constance. We made it to Meerburg and the lake was in sight when Schmitt and his agents cut us off.

Schmitt believed that there was a power left behind by the gods. He believed himself to be a leader of a new race of men. He wanted me to ‘perfect the serum’, make him stronger than Eren. He had my children, Klaus and Marlene, taken to the outskirts of town as insurance implying that they would be sent to Dachau if I should fail.

I stalled for as long as I could hoping Schmitt would forget about me, but it was not meant to be. A few years after I was taken hostage, Schmitt stormed into my lab and pointed a gun to Greta demanding I give him the serum.”

“Did it make him stronger than Eren?”

“It did, but it had...side effects. The serum was not ready. Schmitt’s skin turned red and his face became so disfigured that Hitler called him the Red Skull. He killed Greta with his bare hands,” Erskine wiped away a few tears, “and ordered Marlene and Klaus to be sent to Dachau while I was banished to the dungeons.

Fortunately, Agent Carter and the SOE were able to save Marlene and myself. Though Klaus sacrificed himself when the agents could only save one of them.”

“Your son is a hero.”

“I only wish I could’ve told him that myself. But, back to your original question. I chose you because, like Konrad, you are a weak man. You see, the serum amplifies everything; good becomes great and awe-inspiring, bad becomes worse and a nightmare. Men who are strong their entire lives often do not value strength and abuses it. However, a weak man who is compassionate and brave will use it to help others. You were chosen because you had the aforementioned virtues and because you use your mind.

The world does not need perfect soldiers, look where that has gotten us. No, what we need right now are good men.”

Erskine poured out two shots and gave a glass to Steve.

Steve raised his glass, “To the little guys.”

The liquor was just about to touch his lips when Erskine snatched the glass from him, “What are you doing? You have an operation tomorrow. No fluids.”

Steve chuckled as Erskine bid him farewell and good luck tomorrow.

  Ife found Steve in the Common Room hunched over a chair with a letter in his hands. Emotional echoes of gloom came off in waves as she approached him.

“Whatcha looking at, Steve?”

When Steve didn’t respond, she gently placed a hand on his shoulder, “What’s wrong?”

Steve finally turned to Ife, “I received an invite to a funeral. It’s for Marlene Philomena Erskine, Dr. Abraham Erskine’s daughter.”

Ife nodded in understanding; he feels that he failed Marlene by not protecting Dr. Abraham Erskine.

But in fact, he didn’t fail her.

She lived quite the life for a human.

Not long after her father’s assassination, Marlene became a badass mechanical engineer and physicist. Her designs and schematics for transportation vehicles and energy storage/distribution gave the colonizer nations a fighting chance during the Wars Against Colonialism.

Though part of it was because the UA was a little cocky at that point. Marlene sure lit a fire under their ass! Ife can still hear her Aunt Eziamaka pouting at the news of one of UA bases nearly falling into their control.

Marlene’s assistance with the war effort didn’t last long as her gratitude towards the people who saved both her and her father wasn’t enough to overlook the Military’s treatment of some her colleagues.

Her life from there was pretty standard. She became a professor at MIT, got married and had a few kids.

BNA took her off the ‘humans of special interest’ list in 1971.

Thinking back on it, Marlene may have had a better life by her father not making it past WWII.

Though Ife thought it would be wise not to mention this to Steve.

“When is the funeral?”

Steve didn’t raise his head, “It’s in a week.”

“In that case, might I accompany you?”

“Yes...and thank you.”

“No Problem! See you later.” Ife wrapped her arms around him in a quick hug and went on her way leaving Steve slightly bewildered.

  Steve didn’t know what to make of Ifekerenma.

She was always asked the team how they were feeling at what seemed to be the right moment. Shoot, she even talked to custodial staff that few of ever acknowledge. Compassionate to nearly everyone, especially the child hostages during the last mission.

She’s nerdy to the point of Sam jokingly calling her a weeb (anime lover?) when she walked around in an oversized Cowboy Bebop t-shirt once. Wanda mentioned a ‘digital friend’ in her room and caught her mentioning how slow Stark’s tech was much to the amusement of team at Tony’s expense.

Steve’s certain Nat sent Clint a video of the whole thing.

Also, she was what Sam called a ‘Supreme Chef’. He contently patted his midsection remembering the feast she prepared for the team last night. Her cooking would’ve put some of Stark’s gourmet chefs to shame. She asked the team what they liked and she ended up having to create a dinner rotation. Steve was especially touched when she went to an antique bookstore for a recipe that was close to what his mother would’ve made for him.

Furthermore, she would leave out little homemade treats/ snacks at night. Pietro and Sam would sneak some when they thought no one was looking. She even giggled when he accidentally let out a huge belch after an amazing dinner a couple nights ago saying it’s a sign of thanks on her home planet, Avlenia.

Ife always called him Steve; not ‘Captain’ or ‘Cap’ or even ‘Good ol’Century Virgin’ (damn it, Tony!). She never made light of him ‘taking an ice nap’ or asking him about the 1940s in a demeaning way like some reporters and ‘little upstarts on social media’. Somehow, Ife found out about his love of drawing and got him art supplies with a list of recommended artists

She made him feel more like a person and not a symbol or a far off figure who’s emotionless.

Steve felt warm whenever he was around her in a way not unlike Bucky or Peggy though much more like Bucky. She seemed to sense that he was desperate to truly be seen in way that only Sam and sometimes Nat has.

It also didn’t hurt that she was a total knockout. He had the, ahem, pleasure of seeing her out of her uniform and training outfits a few times. She usually wore clothes that were more on the modest side...except for that one time when she wore a Sailor Moon crop top and high-waisted shorts as a dare from Nat. Half of the compound was staring and Steve spent most of the day in his quarters nursing a hard on he was so aroused.

And yet, Ife was one of the toughest women he knew; even Nat was a little scared of her (at least, he thinks). She might be the strongest person physically and she doesn’t take shit from people who badmouth her or the team; Agent Roussel learned that the hard way.

All in all, Ife was...something else, someone he wanted to get close to.

  The day of Marlene’s funeral started out well enough.

Ife spent the early morning making Sam’s request of cinnamon rolls, sausage, omelettes, waffles, and hash browns since he won the raffle of Vision’s turn as he doesn’t eat.

She was handing out everyone’s first servings (didn’t care what happened afterwards) when she felt Steve’s emotional echoes of depression, melancholy, and despair noting how his eyebrows furrowed and how tense his body language was.

She just hoped she could get to him.

  Steve was walking to garage hoping his outfit wasn’t too much.

Nat somehow convinced him into wearing a Highbridge Black Custom Suit with an Eastley Dobbey Blue Shirt, a Black Solid Tie, a Navy Blue Pocket Square, and Ink Black Dress Shoes.

He ‘upped the swoon dial’ as Nat put it. Could’ve sworn he heard Sam snickering.

Steve reached the entrance hoping not to keep Ife waiting when he heard clicking of heels behind him.

He turned around to find Ife looking almost unearthly.

She was wearing a black Ankara (?) dress with a cape that was black on the outside and golden on the inside with various blue, silver, and khaki rectangle clusters. Her hair was mostly contained in a wrap with a few strands framing her lovely face. Her full, plump lips were coated in a Light Plum (?) Matte Lipstick and she wore minimal gold eye shadow.

Her outfit did a splendid job of hinting at her voluptuous curves without needlessly flaunting them like the women who throw themselves at him at press tours.

Ife smiled at him and asked which car were they taking.

Steve motioned to one of the Black SUVs and the two of them strapped in for the three hour car ride.

  Ife sighed and gazed out the window at the scenery. Neither one of them had said anything in the past twenty minutes. Steve wasn’t a fan of most of the music that’s on the radio despite Sam’s best efforts. Ife had to break out her puppy dog eyes to get him to let them listen to some instrumental music from her favorite movies.

It seemed that they weren’t going to say anything until Steve cleared his throat.

Ife, not wanting to suffer in silence, decided break it, “How did you know Marlene?”

Steve raided his eyebrows for a split second, “I didn’t. I just feel like I should pay my respects, you know? I mean, I should attend the daughter of the man I failed’s funeral.”

The last sentence struck a chord with Ife. Emotional echoes of despair hit her like a tsunami.

Tentatively, Ife continued, “How did you fail Erskine?”

“I-I don’t think I’ve fulfilled my promise to him. The country has changed so much since I was on ice. It’s funny; I thought that Brave New World would only have a one of two aspects come to life, but I didn’t see nearly the whole book being right.”

Ife didn’t argue with the last two points. The US was nothing but a never-ending commercial sometimes. People were too busy being ‘happy’ or trying to get the newest thrill to realize that they were living in a sham of a republic.

Though she was concerned about the first sentence.

“What was the promise you made to Erskine? If you don’t mind me asking.”

Steve turned slightly, “To be true to who I am; a good man, not a perfect soldier. To be more like Konrad.”

Ife nodded musing on his answer. Erskine would want everyone he helped to be a good person considering the dangers of such power.

Though she wondered if she knew Dr Abraham’s full history.

Abraham Erskine came from a long line of Homo Magis who specialized in Alchemy . He turned to science when it was clear that his magical powers would never manifest (being only 1/16 Homo Magi). Erskine started working on what would become the Super Soldier Serum in 1920 after the witnessing the horrors of WWI firsthand as a medic.

He made a breakthrough in 1927 when he found what looked to be an old power cell in the attic of his childhood home. Turns out it was a modified Atlantean battery dating back to the 1600s, but whatever.

Konrad Jager was the first of nine volunteers; most of whom went on to fight in the Spanish Civil War with the International Brigades and be part of the German Resistance’s Special Forces during WWII.

Needless to say, they were recruited into BNA’s European Division.

Only Eren Kant was deemed a failure in the end.

Ife shook her head at the info in Erskine’s folder.

Eren was pompous dumbass who broke himself out jail by bending/breaking the bars of his cell after getting arrested for being a player and bully by the Munich Police in August of 1935. His show of superhuman strength got Erskine’s work onto the Hitler’s radar. BNA had to send a cleaner to ‘handle’ Eren before he could get everyone in even more trouble.

She wondered if Konrad and the others would make an appearance.

“What do mean by not staying true to yourself?”

Steve sighed, “It seemed a lot easier to do so in my time.”

Ife wanted to go further, but she couldn’t. Steve was punishing himself up for something he couldn't control and it was tragic.

She hoped that she could actually help him, not for the mission, but for himself.

  They arrived at the venue twenty minutes early. Steve was trying (failing) to fix his tie while Ife was looking as glamorous and poised as can be.

Sensing Steve’s unease, she gave his hand a comforting squeeze, “You’ll do fine,” she whispered as she fixed his tie while not trying inhale his delicious natural scent like a creep (again).

“Let’s go inside.”

  Everyone seemed to stop what they were doing when they entered the venue. Though Ife had to hand it to the guests; no one asked Steve for an autograph or a selfie. She noted several BNA officials and a couple of Earth-based Non-Human big wigs in attendance.

Guess Marlene was popular.

“Ife!” Azeneth shouted as she strode over to from a corner and enveloped her in a hug.

“Azeneth, how are you? I didn’t think you would be back from Mexico City so soon.”

“Well, the mission was short and they wanted me in New York to accompany Eliza here. Now, who is this fine gentleman, Ife?” Azeneth queried while Steve started shifting uncomfortably.

“This is Steve Rogers, one of my new teammates and Ca-”

“Captain America. I know, Ife. I was jesting.”

Ife sighed dramatically while rolling her eyes, “Steve, this is Azeneth. She’s one of my best Earth-based friends.”

“Kickass friend.” Azeneth corrected, “How are you liking Ife? She’s not too much trouble.”

“Stop it, ‘Aze!” Ife playfully hit Azeneth’s shoulder, “Feel free to ignore her, Steve.”

“Hmm, no. I don’t think I will, especially after the stunt you pulled on the first day at the compound.”

Azeneth burst out laughing at Ife’s shocked expression and Steve’s sly grin. She probably would’ve kept goin if not for Eliza cutting into their conversation.

“Excuse us, Mr. Rogers. I’ll have to speak with Ife for a moment. My name’s Eliza Maza, by the way.”

  Once they were out of Steve’s line of sight (Azeneth was keeping him busy), Eliza activated a noise canceller.

“So did anyone die in the attack on the Magic Council?” Ife asked as she made sure Steve wasn’t looking at them.

“No one was harmed, but several books are missing from the library.”

“Shit! Okay. Well, would Dr. Strange be available to assist Wanda with her training? Wong and Nazaret are at the Sanctum and he said that he knew of some spells that could help.”

“I’ll look into it. I should have an answer in a week”

“Okay.”

“Ife, please give me a call when you get back to the compound.”

Ife eyed Konrad Jager, Gregor Eisenberg, Sonje Decker, and Lukas Denhart making their way to Steve. She hoped they weren’t going to drop an info bomb on him today.

“I will.”

  The service was short and sweet as Marlene didn’t want everyone to be bored to tears on her behalf. The crowd got a laugh out that joke.

Afterwards, Marlene granddaughter, Zahara, requested if Steve could stay for a bit. She gave him a beautifully wrapped package.

“My grandmother wanted you to have this. She saw you fighting in the Battle of New York and knew you would know what to do with it.”

“It would be an honor, Miss.”

  Ife thought about her earlier conversation with Steve on the say back. She realized what’s happened to Steve was heartbreaking.

Here was a man who gave up everything for a country that only wants him as a cudgel for their heinous deeds. Someone who, if he hadn’t fallen into the ice, would’ve probably been ruined by the same country he swore to protect. They would’ve labeled him as a communist and destroyed his good name for not immediately getting on board with the next war.

To be honest, Ife didn’t think much of Steve before joining the team. She thought he was just the banner boy for colonizers to feel good; he was the reminder of that brief moment when the US was totally the bad guys (totally being the operative word).

But now?

She saw the toll the helmet and shield had on him. Ife doubted he knew that he was going to be alive for awhile judging how neither Konrad or the others aged a day since they received Serum 1.0 and Steve supposedly got one that was at least 3x as powerful.

She wanted to comfort him somehow, but she was lost on what to do.

When she got back to the compound, she gave Steve a hug and went straight to her quarters to call Eliza.

“Eliza. I can’t do this by myself, and if we’re going to pull this off, I’m going to need some serious backup because the Avengers need some serious help.”

  Fury was going through some mission reports when he heard a knock on his door.

“Come in.”

Oddly enough, Ife was the one to enter the room and not Maria Hill.

“Good Evening, Fury. I have someone who would like speak with you.”

“Well, give me a name and contact info and I’ll see what I can do.”

“Actually,” Ife reached in her pocket for a disc, “I can do you one better.”

Ife tossed the disc into the air and a moon-door portal formed from it. Out came Eliza, Azeneth, and Angela in her gargoyle form.

Eliza gave Ife a quick nod and turned to Fury, “Good Evening, Nicolas Fury. My name is Eliza Maza and we’re from the Bureau of Non-Human Affairs or BNA. I would advice that you lower your weapon. It won’t do you a lick of good,” Fury lowered his gun,” Good. Put Maria Rambeau on speaker, we need to talk.”

  -Somewhere in France-

 Maeve was enjoying her brunch while watching the footage of Eliza officially making contact with new SHIELD and SWORD.

“Well, it looks like it’s time to ‘get the band back together’ as the kids would say.” She chirped to the woman across the table.

“That expression pretty much died in the 90s. No ‘kid’ uses that phrase anymore.” Koronis deadpanned.

Maeve scoffed, “Anyone born after 1800 is a ‘child’ to me. This is what I get for trying not to sound like ‘an old hag’ as you put it.”

“Well, is everything on track?”

Koronis, or Carol, closed her eyes for few seconds, “I see nothing standing in our organization’s way. However, we should have the meeting sooner rather than later.”

“Duly noted. Anything else?”

“The new variable, Ifekerenma, will be more useful to our plans than I originally anticipated.”

“Oh, I do love surprises! I mean, I know how it will end, but I still like to be at least a little surprised. I knew it was a good idea to let Klaue be discovered by Ultron in Istanbul!”

Another woman walked up to the pair,”You wanted to see me, Mistress?”

“Yes. Svetlana, call the others. It’s time to put our plan into high gear. Hell’s Moon is upon us.”

  Steve was having a shitty birthday.

The press was pestering him about the presidential election. Several outlets have called him a sellout and a coward for not endorsing anyone.

He was figuring out the best way to take a shower and hit the hay in less than 30 minutes when he found a beautifully written note taped to his door.

It said to come to Ife room wearing his best dancing clothes.

Ten minutes later, Steve knocked on her door and it instantly opened to reveal a modest dancing hall not unlike the ones he went to with Bucky before the war.

He was so lost in thoughts admiring the place that he failed to notice Ife hovering a few feet from him.

“Happy Birthday, Steve! How do you like it?”

Steve turned to see Ife in a knee-length golden yellow African Wax Print Ankara dress with cold shoulders, ruffled sleeves, and a v-neckline. He didn’t miss the modest view of her cleavage or how her legs looked oh, so smooth in the dress.

Ife, for her part, was super nervous about this. Nat said that people went to dance halls all the time in the late 1930s and 1940s and it took her five days to get the architecture, the music, and the lighting just right.

She hoped that Steve wouldn’t be angry with her.

Steve looked incredibly handsome in his simple dress shirt and slacks. His powerful shoulders, thick biceps, trim waist, and beefy thighs were accentuated by the lighting which made him look like he was glowing.

Ife would’ve drooled if she knew that he didn’t like it when most women would throw themselves at him.

“It’s amazing. Thank you.”

“I’m sorry about the dress. I couldn-”

Steve raised a hand to stop her from going off on a tangent,”You look beautiful.”

Ife felt a flurry of warmth in her core at the compliment.

“So, what would like to do?”

Before Steve could answer, Duke Ellington’s Don’t Mean a Thing starting playing.

Steve stretched out his hand, “Would you like to dance?”

Ife took his had and they glided onto the dance floor.

“Where did you learn to dance?”

“Bucky’s mom made us learn when Bucky started getting attention from the girls at school. She thought it best that we knew how to treat them to a good time.”

“I see,” Ife giggled, “Then she was wise to make take the lessons. Though I’m more familiar with the jitterbug.”

Steve chuckled as they resumed swinging. He hummed a bit as they danced to Ella Fitzgerald, Caro Emerald, Jo Stafford, Billie Holiday, and Gene Krupa.

Ife was impressed with Steve’s dancing skills. What were those women thinking passing him up like that?!

After a couple more rounds of dancing, the music shifted to something more modern but not (it was Howl’s Moving Castle’s Main Theme) , the colors on the walls and ceiling brightened, and several chandeliers formed on the ceiling.

Steve gave Ife a slightly confused look and asked her if she would like to try a waltz this time.

The song lasted a little more than five minutes. Steve was somehow able to lead their movements in sync with the song.

Ife felt her body was aflame with gentle yet commanding touches Steve was giving her. He even lifted her a few times making her feel as though she was flying with how gently he held her.

They were absorbed in their own world they either failed to notice or ignored Nat and Wanda entering Ife room to see if they could have another spa day. Nat even got a few pictures of the two dancing.

Steve gave Ife one last life during the climax and pulled her in when the music came to a close. They were about to come in for a kiss when Ife pressed her lips together and back away.

“We should probably retire for evening. Goodnight, Steve.”

Steve’s shoulders slumped in defeat, but left Ife’s room with a simple goodnight with Nat and Wanda in tow.

Ife frowned. She knew Steve wasn’t in the best place for a relationship and her conscience wouldn’t let her take advantage of that.

#steve rogers #steve rogers x ofc #stucky #stucky x ofc #mcu imagine #avengers imagine #marvel fanfiction #steve rogers imagine #mcu smut #mcu fanfiction #black fanfiction #black fantasy #steve rogers angst #steve rogers fluff #marvel au #a warrior's heart #mcu #alternate history #captain america #captain america angst #captain america fluff #steve x black!reader #steve x ofc

[thanksjro]

More Than Meets the Eye #28- I Sure Hope Y’all Like Megatron

“Dark Cybertron” is finally over! Woohoo!

Who’s ready for a return to hijinks and mild peril?

I know this guy is!

Hold on a second-

We start our foray into Season 2 of MTMTE with a little meta-humor-

-and then it’s right into the swing of things, as Brainstorm uses the thin, fragile wine glass of faction-based morality to hold his personal need to make instruments of violence. Nautica disapproves, but then why wouldn’t she? She’s not been steeped in the militant ideologies of the Autobots for millions of years.

It’s six months after the convoluted events of “Dark Cybertron”, and our beloved ship, the Lost Light, is back on track for the Knight Quest. Nautica’s joined the crew, which is neat, but there are far more interesting things going on.

Like Rung actually doing his fucking job for once.

Wow, look at that little creamsicle man go.

It would seem that in the last half-year (by Earth standards) Megatron’s somehow gotten himself into the esteemed position of Captain of the Lost Light. This likely means that Rodimus has been defeated in battle, or perhaps fucked off on yet another space yacht to run away from his responsibilities. I suppose the narrative will have to fill us in on just what exactly happened.

Or, at least, I hope it does. Wouldn’t be a terribly good story if I had to guess on how exactly this dude’s in charge of a whole-ass Autobot crew.

Yes, yes, I know he switched sides, but goddammit, it takes a little more than saying sorry and changing your wardrobe to excuse the murder of half of NYC.

I mean, we can do both. Both is an option. I’ll break out The Communist Manifesto right now, let’s fuckin’ gooooooooo-

Six months prior to Megatron’s therapy appointment, Rodimus is ready to high-tail it off of Cybertron yet again. This is because, as established in previous posts, Cybertron kinda sucks butt. He bursts into the meeting Optimus Prime called- even though he’s really not leader of anything anymore, Starscream is- bids everyone farewell, and is about to run back out of the room when he’s stopped.

Turns out that the populace of Cybertron want Megatron to stand trial. That makes sense, given what all he’s done. Of course, the Autobot pals we’ve got in the room want to skip due process and go straight to the part where Megatron pays through the nose for the last four million years.

Which doesn’t feel terribly heroic or good guy-ish, but I think by this point you’ve probably caught on to the fact that everyone in IDW Transformers is morally gray at BEST.

Because Megatron’s had a rough time the last few years, in relation to his bodily integrity, spark extraction- that thing that High Command lied about in relation to Overlord- isn’t an option. It would just kill him dead.

Uh, excuse me? Optimus Prime, sir? Monsieur Premier?

Guess Optimus hasn’t been keeping up with exRiD.

Anyway, yeah, since Tyrest fucked off in “The Sound of Breaking Glass” and also tried to commit a genocide, we’re gonna need someone to cast judgement.

Course, a military trial isn’t exactly ideal, but as long as it’s open to the public, it should be fine.

Probably.

Anyway, Prowl’s also going to help. Ultra Magnus has been assigned the task of representing Megatron in court, a job which he’s positively delighted to have, if his face is any indication.

The gang breaks for lunch, and Rodimus and Optimus touch base on how the Knight Quest is going.

Because Rodimus’ half of the Matrix had the map for finding the Knights of Cybertron in it, they’re gonna have to go with Plan B.

Oh fuck yes, I love Plan B!

Unfortunately, finding the ideal romantic partner for all Cybertronians is going to have to wait until after the trial, because Optimus really wants Rodimus here for this. Though perhaps there’s a way to make things move a little faster…

Back in the present, Megatron’s had just about enough of Rung being a psychiatry joke, and is about to walk out of his appointment. Ravage is here, which is neat. Rung asks Megatron about the three most important people in his life, and how he met them. One of these people is, funnily enough, Rung.

Rung, if you’ll recall, was thrown into Megatron and Impactor’s table at Maccadams waaaaaay back in The Transformers #22, the first issue of the IDW run that Roberts wrote solo. It would seem that getting arrested and subjected to police brutality ruined his once-idealistic worldview. This is just a lightning-round recap of the events of the “Chaos Theory” storyline.

Being reminded of how hard he got dunked on makes Rung break out his copy of Megatron’s autobiography, Towards Peace. Of course, Megatron has to be “that guy”, and makes it out to be far more than it actually is. My dude, you used your writing to tell all your proto-Decepticon buddies to go beat up Whirl in prison. Let’s not make things sound more grandiose than they are.

Anyway, it turns out that Rung is actually just as much a nerd as he looks, as he reveals that he’s in possession of one of the only few copies of the original version of Towards Peace. And then he takes off his glasses and the fans go bonkers, even though he’s just got that Milne Same-Face going on, just like everyone else.

There you are, you animals.

Rung discusses Revisionism, I’m reminded that the first publication of Eugenesis had a dedication to Roberts’ son of all people, and we get the question of who Terminus is to Megatron.

But alas! The X-ray vision’s been turned on, and it’s time to see… nude robots? An in-depth anatomy lesson?

Robots are confusing sometimes. Anyways, major props to Milne for drawing all that detail. Dude does the technical stuff with a ferocity that must be awe-inspiring to behold.

Megatron’s decided that it’s time for lunch, and then he’s going to do captain stuff.

Because he’s captain of the Lost Light.

I’m convinced Rodimus is dead. That’s the only way this is happening.

Six months ago, Swerve was being awful Swerve-like, with his new buddy Crosscut- guess he finally learned the guy’s name- and Riptide, who we’ll get to a little later on. These three wonderful lads are holding a sort of “crew try-outs”, and it looks like the requirements needed for entry on Megatron’s Lost Light are stiff.

Still, maybe our new friend Nautica will make the cut.

Oh, you are simply delightful!

Despite Nautica having interest in nearly every topic in the universe, on top of having impeccable taste in booze, she just misses the cut. It’s at this point that Nightbeat bursts into the room to stop this farce from going any further. The fact that nobody mentioned anything prior to this is surprising, given that portmanteaus don’t really seem the type of thing Ultra Magnus would approve of.

Back six months ago, we see what Optimus Prime’s super great idea was to expedite the judicial process- Chromedome. It’s always Chromedome. He’s gonna do that thing he promised his late husband he’d stop doing. I suppose it’s a good thing- for Rewind, anyway- that Megatron is wholly against the idea of having his memories torn out of his head. Guess we’re gonna have to do the trial the normal, non brain-pokey way.

Optimus leaves the cell, because I suppose he’s remembered that there’s a conflict of interests here, but Rodimus stays behind to let Megatron know he deserves everything that’s coming his way.

Then Megatron breaks out the puzzle-box from Hellraiser.

In the present, Chromedome isn’t so much spiraling in his depression as he is circling the drain. Nightbeat doesn’t give a shit about that though- he’s more concerned with the fact that one of the numbers on the door to Chromedome’s room is missing. But I’m sure it’s fine.

It’s fiiiiiiiiiiine.

While Nightbeat’s busy being insensitive to his fellow man’s distress, Megatron’s arrived to his room to find his door’s been vandalized by a bunch of idiots who must have just discovered what a thesaurus is. Then he gets shot in the fucking hand with an arrow.

As you do.

Whirl’s gotten ahold of a bow, and he fully intends to use it for Megatron-directed violence. And also his fists. His very pointy fists. He punches Megatron through the fucking floor into the fuel furnace, and they fall what’s probably a good 200 feet to the ground below. Whirl yells about evening the score between the two of them, and then knees Megatron in the dick.

Turns out, Megatron remembers Whirl even better than originally thought, having gone so far as to order his forces to not kill Whirl, because, in a way, he was grateful for the lesson he learned back before the war in Rodion.

Oh man, I hope Rung’s somehow listening in on this. Like, eavesdropping is obviously bad medicine, but we’ve already established that he sucks as a professional, and he needs what few advantages he can get.

Whirl, enraged by the implication that he’s been fighting fixed battles for the last four million years, punches Megatron in the gut… and his arm gets swallowed up by an errant portal leftover from all of Shockwave’s tampering. Since you can’t really fight with only one arm, Megatron wanders off to do captainy things.

Walking back the timeline slightly, we revisit Megatron leaving Rung’s office, and the idea of personal revisionism, the conversation becoming parallel with the strange happenings going on within the ship, as Rewind’s final message is altered so as not to end with “I love you” but instead a blood-curdling scream. Chromedome is, understandably, upset by this turn of events.

Over with Whirl, it’s revealed that the little fight we saw was intentionally set up. For what purpose, or by whom, is left a mystery.

Please see a doctor.

One last flashback to the trial, as Prowl lists off everything that’s standing in the way of our Sympathetic Megatron Redemption Arc.

Good fuckin’ luck, James.

Back in the present, Megatron’s slapped a bandaid on the hole in his torso, as he checks to see what’s happening on the bridge. It would appear there’s a coffin floating around in space.

Pretty fucked up.

#transformers #jro #MTMTE #world shut your mouth #issue 28 #maccadam #Hannzreads #text post #long post #overthinking about robots #comic script writing

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Better Love Notes

If you’re confused about location, timing, or characters in my Narcos AU series Better Love, this is the post for you.

Better Love is an AU reader insert series that begins midway through Narcos season two. Because it is AU, and because Narcos is complicated af anyway, I wanted to take some time to clarify what things in Better Love will be different than what you're used to seeing in the show.

Hannah “Ears” Aarons

First, I think it’s important to clarify that Ears is more of an OC written in second person than she is a generic reader insert. I might refer to her as “you,” but Ears has a name, a face claim, a backstory, and a huge personality. If that bothers you loads, I totally understand and you’re free to duck out at any point, but don’t come at me. If you have specific questions regarding Ears’ background, personality, physical appearance, family history, or whatever else, get with me privately. I would love to introduce you to my chaotic sunshine child.

Official Job Title: Ears is officially an employee of the CIA, but she is not an agent (read: spy). She was brought to Colombia to be a liaison between Centra Spike, the DEA, and the CIA. She introduces herself to Search Bloc by saying, "I'll be your ears," but in reality, she was put in place to be Bill Strechner’s ears. More on that later. She has a background with the US Army that's basically useless (desk job), a ton of training and zero practical experience with flyover recon and radiofrequency tracking, and she's itching to do something real with her life.

Timing

Ears arrives in Bogotá around August of 1992 and falls in bed with Peña pretty much immediately. Horacio Carillo did die recently, but Javi did not start working with Los Pepes and Don Berna until November of 1992. Assume all of the drama with Martinez Jr. and Los Pepes took place around the time that he and Ears were on the outs - that's just another factor that led Javi to make the emotional, rash decision to work with the cartels that he winds up regretting.

There is actually a one year span of time between season two, episode six and the end of the show. Pretty much the entirety of Better Love (for now) takes place during this year, so if it seems like I’m really stretching things out, that’s actually because the show mushed it all together. I promise, guys, I have done my research here.

Locations

The majority of scenes in Better Love will take place in Bogotá, the capital city of Colombia. It’s important to keep Bogotá separate from Medellín, which is where the nit and grit of the hunt for Escobar takes place. 

Getting to Medellín from Bogotá requires a one hour flight or an eight hour drive (Colombia is roughly twice the size of Texas, fyi). For a gringo, driving around the cities was dangerous, but driving outside the cities was suicide. Javi and Steve might take planes, or they might take an armored chopper, depends on my mood when I'm writing. Assume there's a landing strip nearby the embassy, because I'm lazy like that.

The U.S. Embass(ies): Centra Spike, Search Bloc, and the DEA office are all housed in the old embassy building that's basically right across from the new one (the super upscale nice one that actually functions as an embassy). 

There's a lot of confusion and shuffling around in the show, so I wanted to clarify what goes where (also, the real Murphy and Peña had offices in the old, unused embassy, so this is sort of legit). For simplicity's sake, I am assuming that CNP (Colombian National Police) headquarters are also in or nearby this building. Ears might refer to "headquarters," "the office," or "the embassy," and it's all the same place. Basically, everything is centrally located in Bogotá, and when I refer to “the DEA office,” or “Javi’s office,” picture it from season one - two desks that are not shoved on top of each other, with glass windows and real filing cabinets. The CIA is also located here, as is Strechner's office and the fabled White Room.

These buildings are in Bogotá, nearby Peña’s and Murphy's apartments. I will differentiate between the New, Swanky, Functional U.S. Embassy by capitalizing it and giving it its full title. If I say “embassy,” assume I’m talking about the older one where Javi and Ears are based.

The Carlos Holguin School: This is the base of Search Bloc operations in Medellín, and the primary location that we see in season two of the show. Think of it almost as a military base - training grounds, barracks, bare-bones, no a/c, shitty food. Javi and Steve often stay at "the school" overnight while conducting operations in Medellín. They might also refer to this as “camping” or “the camp,” or “base.” It sucks balls. This is where Javi and Steve have their messy, shoved on top of each other desks that we tend to associate with the show. Javi and Steve still work from here just as often as we see in canon, there just won’t be as many scenes in this location because Ears is never there. 

Javi’s apartment: Javi and Steve primarily live in Bogotá. This is the same apartment building that you see in season one, with the big steps in front of the building and then an even larger set of stairs inside. There is also a big set of stairs on the back end of the building that leads to an underground parking garage (we see this in the season one finale, where Steve gets snatched by Navegante). This building is a five minute walk to the U.S. Embassy, but Javi and Steve mostly chose to drive for safety and convenience. It’s in a pretty decent part of Bogotá. There is one small canon deviation in regards to the apartments: in Better Love, Javi lives upstairs, across from Steve’s front door instead of below him like we see in the show. They share a large front landing. I just really liked the idea of Javi having a view of the city from his bedroom window.

Ears’ apartment: Ears lives in a tiny little flat on top of a drug store, a place that she found on her own through the friend of a work friend. It’s also in a decent part of Bogotá, but not quite as safe or upscale as Javi’s. It’s about a ten minute hike from the embassy and fifteen minutes from Javi’s place.

Miscellaneous 

CIA/DEA Collaboration: The relationship between the CIA and the DEA in Colombia was not pretty. The show makes it look like a personal conflict between Strechner and Peña, but in reality, it was so much deeper than that. These two organizations have opposing goals, and communication and sharing of information was a real problem. Basically, they squabble more than they collaborate, and there was a lot of backstabbing, underhanded fuckery, and generally getting in each other's way. Naturally, this is going to create tension between Ears and Javi.

Bill Stechner: The show makes it clear that Bill doesn’t give a shit about Escobar or the cartels except in regards to the power dynamics they create, but let me reiterate here - his primary goal in Colombia is to keep it from becoming a communist state. That’s all he wants.

OC Sicarios: Don't get Velasco (canon sicario) mixed up with Verdugo (my OC sicario). They are different characters. Verdugo is the guy who features in The Rules of Engagement. 

Feo is another sicario who is an OC. More updates on him later.

Canon Deviations in Better Love

Series spoilers from this point on. I’m going to take it fic by fic, so if you haven’t read something and don’t want to be spoiled, stop at the bold print. Again, Better Love is super fucking plotty, so I thought it was only fair to give you guys a reference sheet. Lord knows I need one, too.

The Rules of Engagement: Introduces Ears. Horacio Carillo did die recently, but Javi’s role in his death is undetermined/not mentioned. Javi does start working with Los Pepes during Rules, but only after he and Ears have their fallout. All of the bullshit with Martinez Jr. and the Castaño brothers takes place during the time that Javi and Ears aren’t speaking.

Aftershocks: Establishes with certainty that Javi is working with the cartels. His primary contact with Los Pepes is Don Berna. This is going to be critical later. Also establishes that Don Berna has more connection to the Cali cartel than he does in canon. 

Yours: Establishes that Connie Murphy is a badass biker bitch with a heart of gold, because I think the show did her dirty. She loves Steve and Steve loves her. Ears and Stechner get to know each other a little better, and Javi doesn’t like this one bit. Ears starts thinking about a leak in Search Bloc, and how dangerous that might be for Javi.

Bang: Javier Peña gives Ears a shady ass, probably trafficked gun for her protection. We don’t know details of where he got it. Solidifies the bro/sis relationship between Steve and Ears. Implies heavily that Javi is doing some shady things with some shady folks. A light introduction to the theme of weapons trafficking in Colombia, which was a massive problem that is barely even mentioned in the show. It will feature heavily in Better Love.

The Shoebox: Introduces the character of Arturo, Ana Delgado’s shady older brother. Ears starts wondering if Ana knows more than she should. Confirms that the Fernando Duque arc does take place in Better Love, and that Javi is genuinely torn up by it like he is in canon. This leads Ears to start thinking more deeply about that leak in Search Bloc, and she begins to actively collect evidence with the intention of sniffing out the rat and keeping Javi safe. Mentions sex trafficking, a major problem in Colombia at the time, and also a minor theme later on in Better Love.

Shit Hits the Fan: Establishes that Arturo Delgado is actually a hitman working with Los Pepes, and that he and Javi have gone on some raids together. Javi is desperate to keep this a secret from Ears, who is friends with Ana, both for her protection and because he’s kind of ashamed of how deep he’s in with Los Pepes. Establishes that in the wake of the Ferando Duque debacle, the Castaño brothers did not reach out to Stechner for help, but instead decided to put a hit out on Javi to either kill or scare him off. Javi is no longer working with Los Pepes, but he never did find out that Stechner was the one who set him up in the first place.

The White Room: Bill Stechner reveals to Ears that her purpose in Colombia is to be his own personal spy on the DEA. He is investigating a mysterious sicario named Feo in relation to a massive russian weapons ring. Bill wants Ears to report everything that the DEA learns about Feo because he suspects that Feo might have connections with FARC, a communist guerrilla group that is Stechner’s public enemy number one. Ears realizes that she’s in deep shit, and also realizes the depth of the resentment between the DEA and the CIA, and how much their goals in Colombia actually oppose. Stechner is revealed to be a real bag of dicks here.

Closing notes

Whew, okay. I will update this post periodically if more information becomes necessary or if you guys have questions, and I’ll reblog it if I do. I’m going to go ahead and tag my taglist folks in this, just because it’s a huge information dump. Of course, you probably don't need to know these things to get the gist of what’s going on in Better Love, but if you’re a chronic overanalyzer like me, it might be helpful. 

Also, let me know if you guys want a list of the characters who are major players in the series. I know I had to make one for myself but I wasn’t sure if posting it would be overkill (this is probably already overkill, tbh).

Tags: @jedi-mando, @aerolanya, @pikemoreno, @bitchin-beskar, @mostly-megan, @huliabitch, @starsandmando, @starlight-starwrites​, @thirstworldproblemss, @knittingqueen13, @yespolkadotkitty

Javier Peña tags: @magpie-to-the-morning, @tiffdawg, @danniburgh, @1800-fight-me

Mad love to you guys if you’ve stuck around for this long.

#Javier Peña #Javier Peña x reader #Narcos #pedro pascal #Narcos fanfiction #Javier Peña x you #Javier Peña fanfiction #Better Love #the rules of engagement #better love notes

[elysiashelby]

In Another World - T.Shelby Imagine Ch. 21

Paring: (Eventual) Thomas Shelby x Aliena Welsh (OC)

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Word Count: 13,178

WARNINGS: ANGST, Cursing, Fluff, Mentions of Sexual Activity (Semi-Explicit), Smoking, Brief scenes of Arguments/Fights, Mentions of Blood, “Vivid” Murder Scene

Summary: A direct continuation from the previous chapter, Aliena takes Michael to the spot Tommy reserved for her and they talk. Michael is introduced to the family. Ali and Tommy are somewhat strained again, but is that a good or bad thing?

MASTERLIST   CHAPTER 20  CHAPTER 22

A/N: This chapter is crazy long! I was not expecting to have so much to write about in this chapter. It’s kind of filler, but it’s happier than most of my chapters. Anyway, from this chapter to the next, I’m going to be messing with the timeline a little. So, if you’re a real stickler for staying with timelines, this is going to irk you.

Oh! Sorry for this sorry excuse of a GIF. The clip I used for Aliena had a boy next to her and this was the best way to make sure your focus staying on the chapter, if you get what I mean?

I doubled over on my knees as I panted for air. Michael was faring far better than I was. 

“Why. The. Hell. Were we running?” Michael asked.

I held a finger up as a hand flew to cover my mouth. I pivoted my body away from his direction, held my hair back as much I could, and let the contents that filled my stomach escape me. 

Michael muttered. “Christ!” Then, he helped me hold my hair away from my face and rubbed my back. 

I was finished soon enough. I spat out whatever remained in my mouth before laughing while I sniffled. I stood up straight and wiped my mouth. “Um, we were running because I thought it a good idea at the time. Anyway, come on. We’re not too far from it now.” I waved my hand over in that direction before walking ahead.

I kept leaning as I walked, and my body felt like jelly— but I’d rather be doing this, feeling this than be at the house. 

Michael cleared his throat before asking, “Did you ever tell me your name?”

I furrowed my eyebrows as I looked at him, still walking. “Um, ya know what… Oh my god, I don’t think I told you my name. I’m Aliena Welsh, but everyone usually calls me Ali.” I extended my hand for him to take which he did.

“Henry. Uh, wait. Michael, um, Michael Gray.”

I giggled into my free hand. “I know. Remember?”

Michael chuckled sheepishly while he rubbed the back of his neck. “That’s right, you know me.” There was some silence between us before he asked another question. “You said you worked as the family maid, right?”

I nodded.

“Forgive me for assuming, but how come you look-?”

I interrupted him with a cackle. “How come I look as posh as you?”

Even in this dark night, I could see the blush on his face. “Ye-yeah.”

I sighed as I hiked my coat up to cover my shoulders. “I have rich friends. They buy me stuff from time to time, but I have my own money. Your cousin and mum pay me two pound.”

Michael scoffed. “That’s a lot of money.”

I nodded to myself. “I know. Well, I know that now. I grew up in America, but I was born in Liverpool. Basically, I only knew the US currency system when I arrived back. I figured two pound was an appropriate amount of money for being a maid to such a big family, but now I’m not too sure.” I chuckled at the end of my sentence. I looked up at Michael and smiled.

I gasped as the sight of my parents’ gravestones as they came into view. I grabbed Michael’s hand as I said. “Come on. We’re here!” I began running over to their gravestones.

“Wait! Where the hell are we?”

I didn’t answer him until we were standing in front of them. I walked behind the gravestones and leaned down on them. “These are my parents. Just their gravestones, so you don’t have to be creeped out abar it. Tommy, your cousin, bought me them for my birthday. Well, he bought me ma’s on my 17th birthday and me da’s on me 18th. But, yeah. This little area, even that swing, is mine.”

Michael bent down taking off his cap as he did so, and read them. He peered up at me. “Tommy, he’s the one with the car, isn’t he?”

I nodded. “Yeah.” Actually, the whole family had cars of their own. ‘Cept for Ada, she didn’t want one.

Michael dusted off his cap on his thigh before standing up. “Can you tell me more about them? My family.”

I nodded and then jerked my head over to my swing. We walked over to it and I took a seat facing him, while he leaned against the tree. “Let’s see.” I began. I kicked off my shoes and started to swing a little. “Let’s go in order. Your mum, Polly, is company treasurer. She’s also the heart of the family. She’s not afraid to hit you when you’ve done something stupid or to piss her off, but she’s also incredibly kind. She just looks intimidating.”

I took a deep breath and leaned my head back. “Arthur Shelby is your oldest cousin and the most physically dangerous. He fought in the war alongside his brothers and friends. He packs quite the punch, but he’s a sensitive man deep down. So, as long as you're good with him, he’ll be good with you. Might tease ya ‘cause he can, but doesn’t everybody do that?” I looked up at Michael and we both shared a chuckle.

I cleared my throat and the smile on my face disappeared. “Thomas Shelby is the boss of the family and company. What he says is almost always law. Nothing happens in Birmingham without your cousin knowing. The cops here have less power than him.” I grunted as I gained more momentum in my swinging. “His looks are as intimidating as your mother’s, but unlike her— he doesn’t have a soft side. So, do not go fishing for it or expect it. Um, I’m sure there’s more but I can’t think of anything.”

I cleared my throat again. “Ada Shelby is your only female cousin. Ada lives in London now, so you will rarely see her in Birmingham. She has a son named Karl and her husband passed recently. He died in January. Ada is a communist, but we love her anyway. Yeah, she’s sort of strained in the family right now ‘cause she doesn’t approve of the business.”

I stopped swinging and let myself relax. “John is the third eldest of the men of the family. He has five children. He is one of the smarter ones of the family. He takes care of the books and he has a wife named Esme. She is the mother of his youngest child. She did not give birth to John's first four children. John can pack a punch as well. Um, don’t tell him a fucking thing! His lips are as loose as a… Um, a goose? Is that the saying?”

I shrugged my shoulder then sat up straight. “Finn is the last of the Shelby clan. He’s only little, 13. I think. He does little things for the family, but all you need to know is that he’s the youngest.”

Michael nodded and kicked himself off the tree. He took a few steps and then motioned me to join him. I hopped off the swing and jogged to stand next to him. “Tell me about yourself then. How did you get to know them?” He said.

I giggled then yawned. “Alright then. My da’ died in the war. That was the beginning of my problems. My sister and I weren’t really on good terms, so she didn’t help me and my mum. So, we struggled a lot. Eventually, my mum told me we were heading to England, but she wouldn’t tell me what for. She took sickness on the journey and died. I walked aimlessly around England. I didn’t remember a thing from when I was eight. I ended up in Small Heath. I fell asleep behind some barrels using my suitcases as pillows when Jeremiah, the city’s preacher found me. He introduced me to your cousins and they took me in. That was… Three years ago.” I nodded when I was done talking.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that.” Michael said.

I shrugged my shoulders. “I’m okay. I’m sorry for what you had to go through. If you don’t mind me asking, were you ever going to search for Polly? Like, do you even remember what happened? How she looks like?”

Michael cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck. “Um, it’s alright. I’m not sure. I’m still 17, so I couldn’t really leave the house yet. I was debating trying to find… Polly, but yeah. I did think about it. I remember a little of what happened. That day, but I can’t remember anything before that. I, uh, I don’t really remember how Polly looked like.”

I nodded and hummed. “She’s beautiful, really!”

Michael chuckled. “Really?”

I nodded, enthusiastically. We laughed again. The two of us then circled back to the swing and while I sat on that plank of wood— Michael sat down on the grass in front of me.

“Are you not cold?” He asked.

I shook my head. “No, not really. And I have a lot of alcohol to thank for that. Why are you?”

He shook his head. “No, but you’re wearing less than me. That’s why I was asking.”

“Oh.” I drew out while nodding my head. I yawned and sniffled again.  

 We talked more. We talked so much that I was eventually yawning between every word I was speaking. I grew tired of sitting on the swing and I laid down next to where he sat. I guess Michael didn’t like looking down on me like that as he soon laid beside me.

I yawned. “When we head back to the ‘ouse, you need to stay outside. Polly will eventually come home ‘n you’ll be escorted inside. When we meet inside again, you need to greet me as if we’ve never seen each other. Got it?”

“Loud and clear.”

“Good.”

I managed a couple of more sentences before my eyes did not want to lift anymore. I whispered. “Wake me up at dawn, will you?”

Michael whispered back. “Can’t make any promises.”

We woke up when the sun was up. That’s all that matters at this point. As we were walking back, I groaned under my breath. “My feet hurt!”

Michael laughed at me. I blew raspberries at him. Michael looked over at me before he asked. “Do you think my mum is already there?”

I shrugged my shoulders. I hummed ‘I don’t know.’ We trudged all the way over to the house. As we stood outside the door, I pointed at him and said. “Stay.”

Michael glared at me before smiling and shaking his head. 

I snickered before opening the door to the house. “By the way, you might want to try and get off any grass you may have on your back. See ya later.” I closed the door in his face and headed up to my room. 

I stood in front of Tommy’s door and just tried to listen to see if anyone was in there. When I couldn’t hear anything, I went into my room and began getting ready for the day. 

I was asleep for about three to four hours, and I woke up with a nasty hangover. As I stared at the bed beside me, my body was begging me to lie down. But, I couldn’t. I had to work today. There was no Advil or Ibuprofen until 1961. The only thing we had was morphine or opium. I was never going to take the latter, so I was raw dogging the hangover as always.

I covered my face with my hands and sighed deeply. I threw my head back and groaned softly. I wiped my make-up off and reapplied some foundation and concealer. Foundation for the bruise on my chin and concealer for the dark circles under my eyes. 

I looked at myself in the mirror and felt nothing. 

Last night did not go how I wanted it too. Again, I don’t know what I wanted to happen, but I didn’t think Tommy and I were going to be strained again. Fuck, I can’t believe I caught him in his little escapades again.

If I had to compare the two, this one hurt more. Not only because it was raw, but because I wanted him last night. I wanted something like that for us. But it’s just my useless pinning. God, was I obsessing over him? I hate myself.

I squeezed my eyes shut and cringed. I huffed, angrily, before I yanked off my bra and put a comfier one on. I put on a long skirt and a jumper. I put my hair up messily, not really caring how I looked, before heading downstairs.

Walking straight into the kitchen, I found it empty. I pursed my lips at the sight ‘n shrugged my shoulders. I began my job by getting a kettle of tea on for Polly then I made some eggs and sausage. 

The door opened and I knew who it was. I could hear the excited chirping of Polly before she crossed the threshold of the kitchen. 

“Oh my-, Aliena! Come ‘ere!”

I turned around. Polly and Michael were standing there side-by-side. Polly’s hands hovered over her son’s shoulders, an ecstatic smile on her face. It would seem that the smile was contagious since all three of us were smiling now. 

Polly continued. “Ailena, it’s Michael! My son. Michael, this is Ailena. She’s our maid but we don’t treat her as one. She’s been with us for three years and she’s around your age.”

I walked forward and we shook hands while simultaneously greeting each other. I said. “I’m making eggs and sausage. Would either of you like some?”

Polly looked at Michael expectantly while the latter glanced at her as well. 

He nodded. “Yes, please. I’m starving.”

I nodded and turned back around, but I was stopped by Polly. “Wait, Ali, love. Go on, sit down. I got it.”

“Are you sure?” I leaned closer to her and whispered. “I can take care of this for you and you can talk to ‘em.”

She shook her head. “I want you to sit down with him.” 

I nodded and flashed her a smile. I faced Michael, pulled out a chair for him before taking my own. I let them talk and sat there quietly. Not like I wanted to chime in on the conversation anyhow. My head was pounding and I just wanted to go to sleep.

I wanted silence and serenity more than anything. I pinched the space between my eyes and took a deep breath.

‘Good thoughts only, Aliena. Good thoughts only!’ I tried soothing myself. It works sometimes. 

The plates clattered as they were set down on the table. I opened my eyes and smiled up at Polly. I dug into the scran I made as slowly as I could manage. However, the rubble in my stomach was not going to let me get away with such a slow pace. 

“Aliena, have you had any schooling?” Michael asked.

I picked my head up and covered my mouth as I replied. “I finished secondary school, but obviously— I never went to a uni.” 

He nodded and asked. “What’s your plans, if you don’t mind me asking?”

I shook my head, my gaze fluttering toward Polly for a second. “I don’t. Um, I’m not sure. I wanted to become an author, but I’m not sure if that’s still on the table for me. Right now, I’m content with where I am. You?”

Michael stammered for words. “I’ve taken courses. Excelled in mathematics, but I’m not sure. I’m thinking of getting an accounting job as soon as I can. Maybe even something else in that field. But, yeah.”

I nodded. “Cool.”

Polly came over with the kettle, poured both of us a cup, and asked Michael. “How was it?”

While looking up at her, he replied. “I was starving, so I would have eaten anything. But really it was super.”

Polly and I shared a small chuckled, but she repeated his word. “Super.”

Never hear that ‘round here.

Michael asked Polly. “So, uh, are you a cook?”

“Not a cook. No.” She set down the kettle and got a cup for herself, scrunching her hair as she did so. I knew she was trying to look her best given the circumstances.  

As she took a seat, Michael began talking, “The man who came to the house, he was driving a posh car. He looks rich. What does he do?”

Polly finished pouring her cup as she answered. “He works with horses.”

‘What a blag! Polly, ma’am!’ I thought as I took a sip of tea. My eyes widened and fluttered comically. 

“Really? I love horses. I got a bay mare.”

“No.”

“I ride it all the time.”

Polly waved out her hand as she said. “Then, it’s in the blood.”

I was busy eating my breakfast. I wasn’t going to interrupt their bonding moment any time soon. Even though Michael's eyes kept flickering toward me.

Their eyes locked, and Michael had a smile on his face “I’ve got about a million questions.” He said.

“So do I.” 

“I’ve had different pictures in my head.”

“Well, here I am.” Polly went for a ciggie while Michael stirred his tea a bit more. Polly moved some of her hair away from her face before asking,“It's all right that it's me, isn't it?”

‘Should I? Shouldn't I? Fuck it, I want one.’ I reached over for Polly’s case, and I gave her a look asking for her permission. She nodded at me while she was exhaling. I got one and lit it up.

“I don’t have any choice.” Michael replied. Polly stubbed out her ciggie as Michael continued. “I mean, you are who you are, aren't you? We don't choose. And that's it.”

I took a long pull and exhaled it slowly. 

“Yeah, that’s right. God gave you to me. People took you away.” Polly reached for his hand and grasped onto it. She took a deep breath before placing her other hand onto their grasp. “And it is all right that it's me, isn't it? In a place like this.”

Michael looked around as if he were thinking about it. “I thought it would be worse.”

Polly and I let out a little laugh while Michael just smiled. However, the moment was ruined when Arthur’s booming voice could be heard from outside.

Arthur shouted while bursting through the door with John. “Run for the hills! It's the Digbeth Kid!”  

I covered my mouth as a way to stifle my giggles. 

“Get out of town, kid, or I will shoot your fucking head off!”

“Time’s Up! Pew!”

I was cackling, bad. I doubled over and tried hiding myself with the table. Polly and Michael’s chairs scraped the floor a little as they stood up. 

“You’re dead. Go down. John!”

I wish I could say there was nothing but silence; however, my cackling was filling the room. I held my breath and sat up straight. I moved around in my chair, trying to get comfortable and act right. I looked at John and Arthur and snickered. I muttered under my breath, “I’m fucking dead.” I shook my head as I stifled my laughter while looking down. My body jostled up and down.

As John was putting his gun away, he reached over and tried swatting me. I yelped and tried hitting him back. I cleared my throat as I sat back down. I looked down at my cigarette to see it’s almost finished. 

They finally snickered as Arthur said. “All right then, Polly. Who's this?”

The boys looked at me with a mischievous smile and found one on my own. I reached for Polly’s case and got myself another.

Tom said. “Gentlemen, this is your cousin. Polly's son, Michael.”

The looks on Arthur’s and John’s faces were wiped off and a serious look replaced it. I won’t lie. When Tom spoke, I looked at him. A pain shot through my heart, it confused me. So, I numbed it with a quick drag. 

Michael walked over to Arthur and shook his hand then John’s. “Pleased to meet you.”

“John.”

“I'm Arthur. You've already met me. I used to throw you out of the window, so John could catch you.”

“Yeah. I used to put you in a shoebox and kick you down Watery Lane.”

Everyone was smiling except for the two troublemakers over here admitting their evil deeds. 

Tommy chimed. “I bet you’re glad to be back.”

Michael laughed before saying, “I don't remember any of it. All I remember is the day they took me away.”

I looked over at Polly who looked like she was about to cry from the statement. She walked over to Michael and cupped his face. I averted my eyes.

I knew I was not the only one who looked away as she hugged him. Arthur and John did the same.

When I decided to look back, Tommy began to speak. “Well, you’re here now, son.” Tommy put a hand on Michael’s back. “Welcome to the Shelby family.”

Arthur chimed in. “Later on, we'll show you the ropes.”

While, John added. “Mhmm. Yeah, we'll show you what's what.”

I knew Polly sent Tommy a wary gaze. She didn’t want Michael anywhere near the family business. Poor her.

“Let's leave him be for now, eh? Come on, boys.” As Tom passed by me, he stole my ciggie from my hand. “Ailena.”

“Thomas.” I replied in the same tone as him while arching a brow. 

“Nice suit.” Arthur said to Michael. 

Polly chuckled before looking back at Michael, fixing his bowtie. Michael looks like he’s been starstruck. 

“They seem nice.”

I snickered, looking away immediately after the fact. I looked back at the pair just as Polly began to speak.

“After having a bit more of a talk, how about going with Aliena for a tour of the city? I have a bit of business I need to tidy up and then I’ll be done for the day. What do you both think?”

Michael and I shared a look. I gave a quick smile, nodding. “I’m fine with it.”

“Then, I’m fine with it too.”

“Wonderful,” Polly cheered. “Come now, the both of you.” She took Michael’s arm before walking over to me, and pulled me up to the living room by my arm. 

For a while, it was an A and B conversation where C would pop up from time to time. I had to pretend to be engaged, otherwise, Polly would see my head tipping back and she would drag me into the conversation. 

Eventually, Polly let out a huge sigh and stood up, which made Michael and I follow suit. “Well then. I should head to the office to finish up my business. Ali, show Michael around the city, will you?”

I nodded. “‘Course, Pol. C’mon, Michael.” I walked ahead of him and out the door. Once he closed the door behind him, I dropped my facade and groaned loudly. 

Michael chuckled. “How do you think I did?”

“Someone call a film director and give this man a job.” I giggled. “You did good. I can honestly say I couldn’t lie to your mum for months, but you did it so flawlessly.”

Michael dropped his jaw while scoffing. “Was that supposed to be a compliment?”

I shrugged my shoulders as I began to walk backwards. “Take it as you want it. C’mon, I’ll show you a couple of spots I love.” 

We talked as I showed him Mrs. Davies’ Bakery as well as a few other food joints. I wasn’t going to tell a blag, I’m not an experienced tour guide. So, I’m winging it.

We stopped in front of Arthur’s flat when I sighed. “Alright, I had about enough of this. Did you say you had some lodgings elsewhere?”

Michael struggled to find his words. “Uh… Ye-yeah! I did, why?”

I rushed forward and took his hands into mine. “That’s great! Let’s go.”

“What? You haven’t even finished showing me the city yet.”

“The city will still be there after a nap. I know you’re as desperate as me for some sleep. Now, c’mon before I get anymore grumpy. And you won’t like me when I’m grumpy.” I began walking forward, pulling him behind me.

Michael scoffed. He repositioned our hands, increased his pace, and began pulling me instead. “You don’t even know where I’m staying.” He grumbled.

I chuckled. “That’s true.” 

We walked to where he was staying. Got a look from the lady at the desk, I knew she knew me. Michael unlocked his door and noticeably swallowed. He clutched the cap in his hands tightly while smoothing his hair down. “Um, so this is it.”

I rolled my eyes, pushed him out of the way, and flopped down on his bed. I let out an exaggerated sigh of relief. “Finally, a damn bed!” I closed my eyes while I situated myself on the bed. “C’mon, Michael. Join me.” I patted on the space beside me.

“I can’t possibly-!”

I opened my eyes and glared at him. “Why not?”

“It’s… We hardly know each other.” His face was beet red.

I rolled my eyes again. “Relax. I’m practically your sister, you know. Your mum says she sees me as her daughter.”

“Yeah, but you’re not.”

I hmphed. “Fine then. Sleep on the floor. Wait for mo’! We slept near each other out in the field. How is this any different?”

“This is a bedroom. My bedroom. I’m still a man, you know.”

I let out a cackle. “Don’t flatter yourself, Michael. I can defend myself, so stop arguing and lay down beside me. If you don’t want to, I’m not gonna force ya. But, just know you can.”

I rolled over and faced the wall. I scrambled under the blankets and closed my eyes. I tried going to sleep, but I couldn’t with Mr. Modest standing over there, fidgeting. I didn’t feel at ease until he took the space beside me. The bed dipped and then I felt his presence next to me.

I smiled and finally went to sleep. I woke up sometime in the middle of my nap. Let me rephrase that, Michael woke me up in the middle of my nap. Without opening my eyes, I croaked. “What do you want?”

“I need to use a telephone. They don’t have a working one here.”

“Nearest one is at the Garrison. Go bug Arthur or Tom. Piss off.”

Through squinted eyes, I could see Michael slip out the door. I rolled back over and fell back asleep.

I grunted as I was slammed against the wall. I met his fervent kisses with the same passion. They were so sloppy to the point where he was about to ruin this for me. I tugged him away by his hair and presented him my neck. 

He didn’t waste any time kissing, sucking, and nipping. I let out a sigh that was cut off by my smile. I couldn’t deny the pleasure he was giving me. The target tugged my face in his direction, capturing my lips again before I felt his hands under my knees. 

I jumped in his arms. He whisked us into his office and closed the door behind us. We threw ourselves in a kiss once we heard the door slam shut. He reached up and pulled out the pin holding my hair in a bun. Well, it was my wig, but same thing, for now. 

I parted from him and shook out my hair. He tugged me back down before slamming me against another wall. I grunted, but I can’t deny the pleasure I felt from the pain he caused me. I scratched his face and neck which spurred a groan from him. 

I squealed as he ripped open my shirt. ‘Fuck, I’m getting carried away.’ I thought, a lapse of sanity taking over, thank god! But it faded as he began to suck on the top of my breasts. I hugged his head closer to my body which made him chuckle. He whisked me around again and I giggled. 

He held me tight to him as he bent us over, and used his arm to wipe away everything on his coffee table. He laid me down on it which made my head fall back. He didn’t waste any time paying attention to my breasts again. 

I craned my head up and looked at him. ‘Fuck, fuck fuck! This feels so good.’ I let out a sigh, a sigh I desperately tried to keep in. I bit my bottom lip and let my head fall back again. 

The target trailed his kisses down from my stomach to my ear. He whispered. “I’m going to make it so you’d never want another man again.” He chuckled into my ear and the spell was broken. He fucking broke it by opening up his mouth.

I smashed our lips together before I reached into his coat, grabbed the gun, and pulled the trigger multiple times into his side. 

He fell to the side, gasping for air. Deadpan, I took my time getting to my feet. I bent down and watched as he struggled to breathe. I was panting a little, my heart still racing from the adrenaline. 

I smiled when he took his final breath, what a malicious smile it was. I stood up and walked over to the mirror he had on his wall. I fixed up my lipstick and tried to fix any other blemish.

“Fuck!” There was fucking blood on me. I walked over to the fireplace, wiped the blood off my stomach, and then tossed the shirt in it. The shirt didn’t burn instantly, but it was a nice sight. I turned around, picked up my hairpin and walked out the door. I got my suit jacket from off the floor and buttoned it all the way up. 

I didn’t stop for anyone as I walked directly into the car that was waiting for me outside. 

“Successful, Ms. Welsh?” Chris, my now permanent driver, asked.

I looked at him through the rear view mirror, sporting a smile. “Of course.”

He smiled back at me before taking off from the company headquarters we were at. 

Who calls for a whore so early in the morning? And to meet up at their job, no less! Jesus christ! It’s too bad, he was quite the looker. 

Finger traced over my swollen lips.

I won’t deny that I wasn’t thinking straight. I’m so sexually frustrated. I touch myself when I can, but I’m 19-years-old! I’m an even older virgin! 

I rested my cheek on my closed fist. 

God, I can’t believe my infatuation with Tommy is so bad that I imagined him while I was doing that. The only reason I could prevent myself from going any further was ‘cause that idiot broke my fantasy. He opened his mouth and I realized he wasn’t Tommy.

I rubbed my forehead and huffed. ‘Now, I’m even more frustrated.’ I reached down on the car floor and pulled the suitcase to my side. “Keep your eyes on the road, Chris.” I ordered before I began unbuttoning my suit jacket.

“As always, Ms. Welsh.”

I smiled before shrugging off my jacket. I tugged my regular work dress over my head and smoothed out any wrinkles. I reached down and tugged my heels off to replace them with some shorter heels. Then, I took off my wig. I placed all my items into the case, and threw it back down. 

“You know what to do with it right.”

“Of course, Miss. I’ll incinerate it right after I drop you off.”

“What happens if you try to betray us and try to turn this in as evidence?”

“That won’t happen, Ms. Welsh. I promise you.”

“Answer the question, Chris. It’s procedure.”

He cleared his throat. “Mr. Johnson will kill me and my entire family.”

“Right.” I hated doing this part. Chris really was a diligent worker, but I get why I have to do it. Some dogs like to bite the hand that feeds them. 

We arrived a few blocks from the main house. I climbed out of the car and walked over to the driver’s side. I smiled at Chris, thanking him for the ride. He tipped his hat before taking off. I jogged over to the shop side of the house, entering it. Men shouting over each other made me sigh. 

I’m just glad I didn’t have to deal with it today. 

I walked into the kitchen and passed by the living room where Polly and Michael were sitting. I plastered an innocent smile on my face as I began to spew bullshit out of my mouth. “Sorry, I’m late. It took a little longer than I thought.”

Polly shook her head. “It’s all right, love. How did he take it?”

I shrugged my shoulders. “Turns out he was cheating on me, just like I suspected.”

Polly tsked before rushing from her seat to hug me. She whispered in my ear, “I’m so sorry, love. Maybe next time.”

I hummed and nodded. We parted and gave each other a grin. Polly looked over at Michael and said. “Come now. I want to show you my house.” 

Michael got up from his spot on the couch and walked over to us. I went ahead of them both, opened the door, and then waited for them to exit the house. Then, the three of us walked over to the garage.

“Do you think I could give it a go?” Michael asked as we stood in front of Polly’s car.

I looked over at her to which she met my gaze. She opened her mouth letting out a drawn out, “Uh...”

Michael began pleading his case. “I have experience, promise.”

Polly’s mouth smacked before she spoke. “Oh, all right then. Here you are. Promise to be careful.”

“Of course.” 

We all walked to our respective seats, but as Michael passed me— I obnoxiously signed the cross. 

“Oh, shut it!” He muttered as he bumped my shoulder.

“Knock it off, you two.”

I cackled all the way till I sat in the back. The ride was hectic to say the bloody least. The boy was gassing it and breaking hard. I’m just thankful we made it to Sutton without an accident or whiplash.

He pulled up to the house with a screeching halt. Polly’s hand was clutching the outside of the car door for dear life as was mine. 

“That was great, well done.”

I scoffed. “Don’t lie to him, Pol. We were holding on for dear life.”

She sighed. “Out we get then.”

I laughed as I climbed out. Polly swatted me gently on the stomach with the back of her hand. 

She whispered. “Don’t tease him so much.”

With a shit-eating smile on my face, I rolled my eyes. “Fine. I was only joking anyway.”

Polly flashed me a smile of her own before taking my arm and walking toward the house. Once we were on the pavement, she let go of my arm to lean into Michael and talk to him using her ciggie. 

She used her ciggie to point toward the house in front of us. “This house is mine. I’ve taken on a different maid. Aliena isn’t a maid here. She’s my guest, so make sure to, you know, treat her as you’ve been. Anyhow, I told her to make up the big room for you.”

Michael crossed his arms as Polly flicked her ciggie away on the street. “Come on, let’s have a look.” She said while walking ahead of us.

I bumped purposely into Michael and jogged to meet up with Pol. I looked behind me and he was chasing after me. I screamed a little and ran faster. 

“Oh, enough the both of you! Acting like children!” Polly tried sounding scoldin’ but she was laughing through her words. 

Michael and I ran around the front yard a little before I let him catch me in his arms. He carried to the front door before setting me down. 

“Go on.” I said while tucking away pieces of hair that had blocked my view. “Unlike you, I’ve already seen the place.”

Michael nodded. “Okay, then.” 

I was the last one to walk in, so I closed the door behind me. I could see Michael’s figure disappearing in the living room, so I followed suit. 

I could hear Polly say, “I thought we could spend the week here.” Polly walked to the other side of the coffee table while Michael and I took a seat on the couch. “You know, get to know each other again.”

It got quiet between the three of us, which Polly disrupted. “I've got ham. Do you like ham?”

While nodding, Michael said. “I like ham, yes.”

“I do too.” I chimed in, trying to hide a smile. I felt bad like I was interrupting a moment, but it would be weirder for me not to talk from time to time. 

Polly took a side step, placing her gloves into the bowl on the coffee table. “I’ve got a maid.” Her tone was nervous. Instantly, made me feel for her.

“Yes, you said.”

I tsked and smacked Michael’s arm. He gave me a look and I gave him one back. 

“She’s upstairs. She can give us some tea. Look, I ring this bell. Watch.” Polly took the bell that was resting on the coffee table and rang it.

Under my breath, I grumbled. “I’m bloody well glad I never had a bell to be beckoned with.” Though, I did notice that Polly looked really happy. 

Footsteps echoed behind us and I craned my head to face her. She looked like a young adult. Older than me, at least. Good.

“Yes, madam.” She said.

We all just sort of waited for one of us to say something, or perhaps I was missing a cue. 

Michael looked to the side a little as he said. “I think we'd like some tea.” 

I watched as the maid walked out of our sight. I raised an eyebrow at the sight. I was never like that.

“You get used to it.” Michael added.

I looked back at him, well more like I looked down at him since I was sitting on the couch on my knees. I muttered. “Cheeky bastard.” And I smacked his arm. This caused another fight to break out.

“Will the both of you fucking stop it all ready!”

I don’t know why Michael and I acted so well together. It was like I gained an annoying little brother. Honestly! Talking to him is fun, though, I do get bored from time to time. His list of subjects to talk about is as limited as mine. Makes it quite difficult. 

Oh and play fighting! That’s all me. I take responsibility. I provoked him the first time we ever play fought and it became a trend. It’s improper for the time, I understand, but nevertheless. I’m not from these times, and he’s one of the only males around my age. I’m used to roughhousing with John and Arthur. I think it happened only once with Tommy. I think.

I was walking back to the main house after dropping off Tommy’s laundry at his flat. I had to make dinner for Finn. Polly and Michael were back at the house in Sutton. Arthur elected himself my appointed driver to take me to and from the house. As Polly stated before, she doesn't want me sleeping at the main house by myself. Finn gets to stay with John or Arthur. I mean, Tommy is a choice too— but, is he really?

I was chuckling to myself when I bumped into someone. I gasped and instantly began apologizing. “I’m so sorry! I was lost in thought and I should’ve been-!”

“Ali! Ali, it’s all right. It’s just me.”

I finally looked the man in the eye and sighed in relief when it was just Tom. 

Ah-! Just Tom. Tom, who I have not spoken to privately since The Garrison’s reopening. The Tom, who I heard having a threesome. Tom. Yeah, okay.

“Ugh, in that case, watch where you’re going.” I shook my head, giggling into my hand. Tom let out a little snicker.

“Right, well. I wanted to see if you’d notice that I was walking toward you. You didn’t.”

I spluttered into my hand, embarrassed. “Alright, alright. Did you need something, Tommy?” ‘Yes, yes… Keep this nice and calm, Aliena. You know nothing and yet everything. God, let me just ascend, right now!’ I took a calming breath, which was actually very loud.

Tom averted his gaze, his eyes wide, and his jaw dropped before pursing his lips. “Polly told me yesterday that you went to break up with one of your gentlemen fellows.”

I furrowed my eyebrows and waved my hands in a “stop” gesture. “Wait, wait, wait! Did you refer-? Did you just say “gentlemen fellows?” ” I blinked dramatically as I leaned forward. I snickered while turning my head away.

“All right, calm down, Aliena.”

I turned my head back and nodded. I held my breath and then let out a sharp exhale. I met his gaze and bit my cheek to prevent my anxious laughter. 

‘I don’t remember the name I gave this boyfriend. Please don’t make me say a name!’

Tommy stared at my face, almost inquisitively. I could see his hand inch closer to my face through the corner of my eye. 

Tommy took a step closer to me, cleared his throat, and asked. “Can I check Ali?”

I exhaled quickly through my nose before nodding. 

With his thumb and index finger, he held onto my chin and checked my face for any new bruises. He rubbed away what little foundation I had covering my almost healed bruise and then stared at it for awhile. 

His touch was comforting even if it was just as little as this. His plump lips were so close to mine yet far away given our height difference. He still had a nick on his cheek, not fully healed. It may never and leave a scar behind. I can’t remember fully if it really did leave a scar. God, this man. He makes me want to spew poetry. I swear to all that’s Holy! 

As he dropped his hand from my face, he said. “Well, then. It would seem someone’s eyes were spared today.”

“Ha!” I threw my head back. “What’re you talkin’ about? Are you trying to tell me that you would have hunted this guy down and blinded him all for my sake?” I smiled and shook my head.

Quickly, Tommy held my face and brought my gaze up. “Ali, when have I never not fought for your… honor.”

I blinked as I thought about it for a moment. I held onto Tommy's wrists and chuckled with a smile. “Oh, that’s right!” I let out another set of breathy chuckles.

“We care for you, Ali. I care about you.” Tommy flashed me a grin. Keyword, flashed.

I let go of his wrists and he let go of my face. I nodded, feeling heat overwhelm my face and neck. 

Tommy smacked his mouth before saying, “There’s another thing I wanted to ask you about,.”

I hummed.

“The night of the party, you never came home. Where were you?”

I furrowed my eyebrows. “How would you know if I was or wasn’t home?”

Tommy was deadpan, no room for laughter. I so badly wanted to say something, but I held my tongue. “I slept in my room that night.” He admitted.

I hummed again this time with more judgement. 

‘Crap, crap, crap! Who do I say I was with? I could say I was with John, but then again he’s a bit fucking slow! He or Esme will probably ruin it themselves. And if Finn crashed with him that night, the little bugger will rat me out! Same thing if I say Arthur. He’ll question it before agreeing to it! Or just flat out say no! I can’t even say Polly! Everyone knows she was fucking with that young guy!’

I huffed, hung my head, before looking back up at ‘em. “Right, well. I didn’t spend the night at anyone’s house. I walked all the way to my little space and spent the night swinging.”

“By yourself?”

I nodded. “By myself.”

Tom sighed. “Ali, you know it’s dangerous to be out alone at night. Especially some ways out of the city.”

I tsked, “I know, I know! Things are sensitive right now with the gang entering the London war. Yada, yada, yada! I was drunk, won’t do it again. Promise.” I looked up at him and smiled toothily. I fluttered my eyelashes and asked, cutesy. “Forgive me?”

Tom snickered while shaking his head, his hands in his pockets. “Whatever as long as you know not to do it again.”

I sighed while rocking on the heels of my feet. “Well, anyway. Where you headin’, Tommy?”

Tommy replied. “Charlie’s Yard. Some shipments came in and others need to be exported. Want to pay me Uncle a visit and see them load them. What about you?”

“Oh! I have to head back to the house and make dinner for Finn. Whenever the lad straggles back in. He’s honestly like a stray cat, that one. After that, I’m headed over to Cassie’s. Polly gave me an early weekend.”

Tommy took out a ciggie and held it between his lips as he said. “Ah, Polly! Feeling quite generous right now, isn’t she.”

I replied back with the same tone while cocking my head. “Isn’t she?”

We shared a chuckle.

“Well, then, Tommy. Good luck with your Uncle.”

“Aye. Good luck with dinner.”

We walked our separate ways. That awkwardness that I had when I first began speaking to him vanished into thin air.

I sighed contentedly as I threw myself back onto Cassie’s bed. “Ah, I missed this place.” I crawled over to Cassie, who was sitting on the edge of the bed, and wrapped my arms around her shoulders. “I missed you the most, though.” I rubbed my cheek against her shoulder and huffed. 

Cassie giggled at my antics, a hand reaching behind herself to pet my head. “How have you been?” She asked.

I sighed, resting my cheek on her shoulder. “Hmm. My life has certainly been eventful these past few days or rather weeks.” I took a deep breath before sliding off her shoulder and laid down next to her.

“Polly, my female boss, admitted to me that she thought of me like a daughter. I didn’t know how to feel about it really. I liked it at the time, but now I don’t really care. I just feel like her feelings are really flexible, you know? I don’t know.” I shrugged my shoulders as I let the piece of hair I was holding fall back down. 

“Then, I got into this little argument with Tommy. Hold on, hold on! It wasn’t a serious argument, but there was one, nonetheless. He apologized at this party he threw for the pub’s reopening.” I sprang up from where I laid to my knees. I took her hands and put them onto my lap. “Oh my god! I forgot to tell you. I got all dolled up for the party right. I don’t know what I was expecting to happen, but I wanted Tommy to look at me.”

I inched a bit closer to Cassie, who fixed herself to look at me more clearly. “Well, after he apologized he called me beautiful. So, I had my intended effect for a while. However, I couldn’t get him alone after that since like I was talking to other people. Then, he had a cob on from still being in a fight with Polly, and he sort of took it out on me. He apologized right away and agreed to dance with me. Right! Forgot to tell you, I asked him to dance but he said no and that I should sit down ‘cause I was drunk. I was a little drunk, but the way he said it— I didn’t appreciate it.”

I squinted my eyes and gestured “a little” with my hands. “Anyway, when we were dancing— I noticed his attention was not fully on me, so I wanted a break. I freshened up, right, and when I came back, he was gone. When I went home, he was at the house instead of his fucking flat— fucking two girls in his room!” I nodded my head as Cassie gasped, covering her mouth. 

“Aliena, no way!” She exclaimed while smacking my thigh.

I nodded, tears slightly stinging my eyes. “I dressed up for him, kind of made a move. And he still didn’t choose me.” I gnawed on my lip while shrugging. My gaze was on the floor. 

Cassie sighed and grabbed my shoulders, squeezing them comfortingly. 

I sighed, dabbing away at my eyes. “It’s like I’m scared, Cass. I’ve been smitten with Tommy for so long, right? Practically obsessed with the man at this point.” I scoffed while rolling my eyes. “I can’t even explain why I’m so taken with him. It’s just like my soul and my heart reach out for him.” I shook my head as my tongue prodded the inside of my cheek.

“I just feel that once I confess to Tom, right, and get rejected… I’m going to throw myself into the world. But in a bad, unhealthy way. It’s hard because we are both not getting any younger and I’m tired of pinning over him, yet I don’t want to confess either.” I hugged Cassie and hid my face in the crook of her neck. “Oh, Cassie. I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

Cassie hummed, stroking my hair away from my chest and toward my back. She rocked us from side-to-side ‘n we stayed like that. 

“Aliena, how did you get that bruise on your chin?” Cassie asked me.

My eyes flew open and they widened in shock. I focused on not tensing my body or changing the pitch of my voice. “The bruise on my chin. Oh, I got it from Arthur. He hit me by accident. He was ‘aving an episode.”

Cassie pulled away from me, violently. Her grip on my shoulders hurt. “Aliena, stop lying to me.”

I scoffed with a smile. I shook my head. “I’m not lying to you-...”

Cassie rose to her feet and shouted. “Stop fucking lying to me! I saw you, okay! I saw you with my dad! Are you-! What are you doing with my dad, Aliena?”

I held Cassie’s gaze for a while before I looked down. I tried racking my brain for a lie, but one wasn’t coming up fast enough. How did I know one didn’t conjure up fast enough? Well, it’s because I was struck across the face.

Cassie slapped me across the face as she sobbed. “Don’t try lying to me, Ali, please. I know you’re trying to think of some kind of story to tell me.” She hissed, “I. Know. You.”

I sighed and looked away. “Cassie, I-!” I swallowed harshly before continuing. “It’s not like I-! Fine, I didn’t want you to know because I don’t want to fucking parade this kind of information around. And it’s not like I could bring it up in easy conversation, okay? I realize I should have told you to avoid a misunderstanding, but again— it’s not fucking dinner or tea time talk.”

I took a breath before I told her everything. “On the morning after I killed the man who raped you, I took a job from your father. It was a contract killing. He paid me £1,500 to kill some lawyer, and I killed him. That’s what I’ve been doing, okay? I’m a contract killer, an assassin, a murderer. Cassie!” I rose to my feet and gripped her forearms. I jerked her around as I yelled. “Huh! Well, say something, Cassie! Say something!”

Inside I was nervous out of my mind, but outside I was cold. How was I supposed to feel? Would I lose my best friend? I know we share similar views, but we’re not the same person. We’re both warped, but we only talked about these violent events in theory alone. Now, I was actually committing the things we’ve talked about.

Cassie sniffled before saying, “HOW-! How-?”

“How what, Cassie? Spit it out!”

“How can you do something like that! How can-? Why are you doing this, Aliena? Is it because of me?” Cassie was a mess. She was practically wailing at this point. 

I shook my head. My emotions were getting the better of me as I felt my throat constrict and my eyes sting yet again. “Cassie… No. It’s not your fault. It’s not your fault. I’ve always had it in me. That night, it wasn't the first time I had killed someone. I already knew I was capable of it, and-!” I took a shuddering breath as I averted my gaze to the ceiling. “When your dad gave me the chance to make that kind of money he was offering, I had to take it.”

I dropped my gaze back at Cassie and cradled her face. “I’m not with you for your money, Cassie. It’s a job. A job I can do well. Please understand, I would never hurt you. Please. Please. Please.”

 I kept begging her and hid my face in her neck. Cassie took loud inhale from her mouth, it stammered as she did so. My shoulders shook as I cried into her neck. When I felt Cassie’s hand stroke my hair and the other rub my back, I let my sobs become more vocal.

Cassie and I fell to our knees and we hugged each other. Comforted each other.

I wailed into her neck. “I don't know! I don't know why!” 

And I truly didn’t. There’s no real logic as to why I’m assassinating people, not in this situation. I can’t tell her that I’m preparing for a life on my own. I can’t tell her that the money I get from these completed jobs will allow me to live on my own in England or perhaps in America. So, I stuck giving her these stupid nonsensical half-truths. 

“You hate me now, don’t you?” I whispered, a hiccup messing up my words.

Cassie replied no with a sigh. “No, of course not, Ali. What hurt the most was that you didn’t tell me sooner. I almost thought that you were prostituting yourself or you were with my dad...intimately.”

I laughed at that. “Oh, Cassie. While your dad is certainly still attractive, I could never do that to you besides...”

“I’m/You’re totally in love with Tommy/Thomas Shelby.”

We belted out with laughter, our foreheads resting together. 

Cassie leaned back and wiped away the snot that was leaking from her nose. I did the same. She said softly. “Ali, how could you ever think I wouldn’t understand? We’ve murdered a man together, remember? You fucking idiot.”

I chuckled while shrugging my shoulders. “I just didn’t want to ruin anything.”

“You’re a bloody idiot, Aliena.”

I smiled. “At least, I’m rarely an idiot.”

She scoffed. “Yeah, that’s best for everyone.”

Silence fell between us before she asked. “How does it feel? Killing someone for money.”

I hummed while looking away and hugged my right foot closer to my body. “Well, it depends on the person and the method. But I can tell you one thing. When I see their blood, feel it, it’s like a high I can’t describe. My reactions just become so raw and get the better of me sometimes. Like I just want to smile and laugh hysterically, but I got to run so... I can’t allow myself to do it for too long either. Other times, I feel nothing. Nothing at all.”

“Do you regret it? Like are you haunted by it?”

I shook my head while pursing my lips. “No. Not one bit. It’s a little frightening, to be honest. How I’m so at peace with myself, you know? I don’t know how many people I’ve killed, but I can fall asleep easy at night. Their screams and pleas don’t haunt me.”

Cassie nodded. “You are so badass.”

We laughed again and I pulled her into a hug. “I love you, Cassie.”

“I love you too, Ali.”

“I’d do anything for you.”

“Me too.”

We parted from our hug a little and shared a kiss. I stroked her cheek with my thumb and stared into her blue eyes.

I whispered. “I think you’re one of my soulmates, Cassie.” My mouth smacked as I said through gritted teeth. “Please, don’t ever leave me or betray me or break my heart.”

Cassie nodded. “Never. I ask you the same.”

I smiled. “Never.” 

Cassie joined me in my smile and we hid each other’s faces in our necks. 

Thank you, God. Thank you, higher power, for blessing me with my soulmate.

I groaned in discomfort as there was this continuous ringing annoying me. Through squinted eyes, I reached for the phone. 

“Suite 226, Ritz Hotel.”

“It’s Tommy. I’m calling a family meeting, get here quickly.”

I tried to find words, but ultimately I said. “Right, yeah. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Good.”

Then, he hung up. I put the phone back on the receiver and flopped back down with a sigh. I looked to my left where Cassie laid asleep on my arm. 

 “Who was it?” She grumbled.

I was rubbing the sleep out of my eyes as I replied. “Tommy. It was Tommy.”

“What’d he want?”

“He’s calling a family meeting. Wants me to be there.” I looked down at her and smiled, sadly. I began to get up, but Cassie wrapped her arms around my stomach preventing me from going any further.

She groaned, exaggeratedly. “Nooo! You’re mine for the weekend. You promised.”

I chuckled as I twisted my body to stroke the top of her head. “Cassie, they probably won’t even need me for that long. I’ll come back.”

“You can’t promise me that.”

I huffed as I roughly rubbed my forehead. “You’re right. I can’t.” There was a silence between us. 

Cassie let go, using her hands to support herself. “Fine, whatever. You better come back.”

I smiled as I rose to my feet. “I will! Okay, I’ll see you later. Go on back to sleep.” I patted the pillow I was laying on before walking over to the sofa that had my clothes. I was wearing nothing but a tank top and panties. 

I looked back at her just in time to see as she pshed me while moving some of her hair away from her face. “Do you even know what time it is? No, I’ma get ready for the day. Same as you.”

I heard her throw off the duvet and stomp away to, perhaps, her drawers. I picked up my bag and tried some appropriate clothing. I wasn’t intending to see them at all till I came back, so I didn’t pack any “modest” clothes. 

Unfortunately, I had to settle with yesterday’s clothes which was, unfortunately, a short, purple floral dress. A very short and modern dress.

As I was tugging on my white, knee-high socks, I asked. “Cassie, could you ring Simmons for me, please?”

“Yeah, alright.”

I rolled my eyes. I really didn’t want her ‘ave a cob on for the rest of the day. 

Cassie tapped my shoulder as I was putting on my shoes. “He’s downstairs. Just hop in the car when you’re ready.”

I nodded. “Thanks.” I sat up straight and patted her arm as she was knelt over the sofa. I stood on my knees and gave her a toothy smile. “Forgive me?”

She hummed. “It’s not your fault, so there’s nothing to forgive. But! If you don’t come back, then you’ll have to beg for forgiveness.”

I nodded, tapping her arm a few times before I kissed her on the cheek, and made my way to the door. I put on my coat, and flicked out my hair. “See you later then, Cass!”

“Bye!”

I made my way down and into the car. Simmons already knew where I was headed, so I didn’t have to say anything but a greeting. 

I can’t remember the exact reason for this family meeting. Only that I have happiness associated with the memory since I have the urge to laugh, all of a sudden. 

I ran a hand through my hair and tried to relax.

I can’t describe how liberating it was to finally tell Cassie. I won’t tell a blag. I was never planning on telling her. I just wasn’t. There was no maliciousness behind it nor guilt from me. I just didn’t see a need for her to know. 

But now that she knew and understood, I can rest easy. Well, easier. 

“We’re here, Ms. Welsh.”

I smiled at Simmons through the rear view mirror and thanked him as I climbed out of the car.

“Do I wait for you, Miss?”

I stammered for an answer. “Uh, um. N-No. I’ll have someone else drive me. Thank you, Simmons.”

He tipped his hat at me and then started up the car. I twirled around, walked toward the door, unlocked, and walked in. I closed the door behind me, took off my coat, hung it up, and began making my way into the shop. 

I barely crossed the threshold when I was taken into someone's arms and spun around. I giggled hysterically, my arms wrapping around John’s neck. 

“Here’s the little songbird! We were just talking about ya, Ali.” John shouted in my face.

My jaw dropped as I let out breathy laughs. “Oh, really? Alright, you had your fun. Now, put me down, ya big oaf!” I smacked his shoulder.

“If you want something, you gotta ask nicely. C’mon, Ali. Even my kids know that.”

Tom cleared his throat which caught both of our attention. He scratched his cheek with his thumb before saying, “John, put her down.”

John made a face. A face that asked why, and I smiled smugly at him for it. 

“You heard the man. Put me down.”

John scoffed. “I don’t ‘ave to listen to him.”

I “ooohed” at the statement. But my smugness was short-lived as John spun me ‘round again. I held onto the man tighter, but my legs were swinging in the air. I hadn’t wrapped my legs around him in fear of showing anything. That’s how short this dress was.

“John!” Tommy yelled. “Stop spinning her ‘round and put ‘er down!” He made a face, one I couldn’t decipher. And neither could John, apparently.

Arthur’s mouth smacked before he pointed at us with his hand. “John, you’re showing her knickers for fuck’s sake!”

John let me go like I burned him ‘n I was glad for it. I tsked, pulled my dress down, and made sure to smack him across the chest a few good times. John snickered as always.

I hissed while still smacking him. “You fucking divvy!”

John shouted. “All right! All right, Ali! I’m sorry.” He caught my wrists and apologized one more time.

He had such a smile on his face that I couldn’t help but mimic it. I pushed his face away from mine as I muttered. “Oh, do one, will you?” We both snickered before finding ourselves a spot to stand. I was leaning against the wall next to John, my legs a little ways out in front of me. My back was arching and I was paying attention to my nails.

Tom cleared his throat again before walking up to me. He whispered. “Ali, how about you head upstairs and change, eh?”

I snickered at him. Looking at him as if that were the most ridiculous thing he’d ever said. I whispered. “I’m alright.”

His jaw clenched. He nodded his head as he looked away. “Alright.” 

I tried thinking of reasons for him telling me that. I wasn’t going to get myself in another situation like the one that just happened. So, what was the big deal? Perhaps, it’s because this dress has a v-neckline as well.

Tom walked away and I never took my eyes off him. I didn’t look away as he looked back at me. It wasn’t a long shared glance since he was the one to break it first.

I sniffled before I bumped my shoulder into John. “Oi, you got a ciggie?”

He shook his head. “Nah, but hold on. Arthur, give one over, yeah?”

Arthur took out his carton, lit one up, and then passed it to John. John passed it to me and I nodded to Arthur.

“Anything for you, songbird.” Arthur chimed.

I chuckled before blowing out the smoke. We had to wait a little more till Polly’s car could be heard pulling up from outside. As Tom told John to get Polly and Michael, I walked over to the table to stub out my ciggie. 

I was walking back over to the wall I was leaning against, when I heard the door open behind me. 

From behind me, Polly said. “This had better be good to interrupt my holiday.”

I took my place as Polly quickly stood in front of the little table that was in front of Tommy. 

“Where’s the boy?” Arthur asked.

As she was setting down her things, she answered. “In the back room. I only brought him because afterwards we're going to the museum.”

John chimed in saying, “He wanted to come in and say hello—”

“Shut up, John. There is nothing of interest to Michael in this room.” 

I knew I wasn’t the only one who was shocked by her statement. My eyes blew wide and I fought off a tight-lipped smile. 

‘Fuck, her eyes settled on me!’

Polly scoffed. “Ali, what in heaven’s name are you wearing?”

“I-!”

She blinked dramatically ‘n jerked her head back as she did so. Polly held up both of her hands before taking a deep breath and faced Tom. “Oh, Tommy, get on with it.”

My jaw dropped a little and I peered up at John, who gave me a similar look of astonishment.

We both turned to Tommy just as he clasped his hands together again. “Last night, one of our men had his throat cut in Winson Green. This morning, I had a telegram saying it was Sabini who ordered it.”

“And it says here that Thomas Shelby's next.” Arthur said as he ripped up the telegram.

Tommy continued. “If our men think we can't look after them in prison, they'll not work for us. Sabini knows that. So we need to get the Green sorted out. Scudboat, you and one of the boys break a couple of windows, get yourselves arrested. I'll have our coppers get you into the Green and you can find the bastards who did it.”

Scudboat asked. “Instead of breaking a window, can we pinch a car?”

Everybody in the room began snickering, except for Polly, Arthur, and Tommy. 

Scudboat continued. “What? Everybody else is getting a bloody car.” It made everyone snicker even harder. “I'm still on a donkey.”

Tommy took back control as he said. “All right, just get yourselves fucking arrested, it doesn't matter how. And before you all laugh, a boy is dead.”

Yes, that’s very sad, but that was too fucking funny. 

I turned away and hid myself in the wall, my hands covering my face. I stumbled as John pulled me into a hug. I couldn’t stop bloody laughing!

“He was just a kid. We'll start a fund for his family, Pol.”

“Agreed. So is that it? Can I go now?”

I turned back around and quietly thanked John for helping me. 

“Well, as company treasurer, I need your permission to spend 1,000 guineas.”

“On what?” 

“On a horse.”

“A thousand guineas on a horse?”

Tommy nodded. “That’s right.”

Polly took a moment, taking a couple of steps back with bewilderment on her face. “When was this decided?”

“You've been busy with Michael.” 

“Oh, my God. So, in the absence of common sense, you boys have had an idea.”

“Polly, there's a thoroughbred, quarter-Arab filly up for auction at the Doncaster Bloodstock.”

“What do we want with a 1,000-guinea horse?” 

“When we make our move on Sabini's racing pitches, any men we get into the betting enclosure will be lifted by Sabini's police. A good racehorse is a passport to the owner's enclosure.”

I knew Arthur was about to chime in and soon after that it would be Loose Lips McGee over here. I began rubbing my lips together harshly as a way to hide my smile.

Arthur said. “We'll be in there with all the toffs. Coppers won't know where to look.”

“Hmm.” John began. “Yeah, the Epsom Derby, Pol. We'll be drinking with the bloody king.”

Polly exclaimed “The Derby?”

Tommy and Arthur both looked at him mean. I snickered and whipped my head away. I used my hair as a shield.

“Did he say the Derby?”

I cleared my throat, faced them again, and held one of my wrists in front of me tightly. I was still rubbing my lips together. A sharp pain erupted on my chest and I groaned softly. I snarled at John and struck him back while hissing, “Watch it! You hit my boob.”

He resorted to snickering.

Tommy sighed, almost defeatedly. “That’s right.” He cleared his throat. “For the last 10 years, Sabini's made it his race. If we're going to take him down, might as well make it there, as a symbol.”

Polly asked. “Did you come up with this idea in a pub by any chance?”

“Pol, good racehorse is an investment, like property. We need to diversify the portfolio.”

‘That’s a load of bullshit!’ I smacked my hand over my mouth and rocked on my heels. 

“So when is this sale?” 

“Tomorrow.” 

Arthur said. “Tommy's had a death threat, so we'll have to go with him for protection.”

Rather irritated, Polly said. “So, you're going to close up the shop, go out on a piss-up and blow 1,000 guineas on a horse that's not even whole Arab.”

Curly’s laughter caught everyone’s attention. “Quarter-Arab is better! Quarter-Arab, it means—”

“Curly, shut up.”

That’s when Michael came ‘round from behind John ‘n stood beside him.

Polly was quick to yell at John. “I thought I told you to lock that door.”

Michael said. “He did. I used the key on the nail. Look, I've been listening. I want to go with them.”

Polly flailed her hands up as she yelled. “You see?” She was looking right at Tommy. Crossed her arms when she was done.

Michael tried pleadin’ his case. “I love horses. I could even help.”

“Over my dead body!” 

“It'll be all right, Mum.”

I couldn’t help but notice how much Polly softened as Michael called her mum.

“I've been to loads of horse auctions before with my uncle. They're very respectable. People bring their butlers.”

With a glass raised near his mouth, Arthur added. “Yeah, and their posh wives!”

“And their mistresses.” John said as he elbowed his cousin, playfully.

Arthur said while takin’ a drink. “Let him come, Polly. We'll go there, buy an 'orse, come back.”

John tried helping his cousin as he said. “I'll drop him back at the house in Sutton before it gets dark.”

Polly began shaking her head, tears barely forming in her eyes. “No. Fucking no.”

I pulled back my lips making an “Eee” kind of face before pursing them and looking away with my eyes closed. I knew all three of them were disappointed like little kids. Like little kids being told they can’t have a sleepover.

I could hear as Michael walked away then papers ruffled, and finally, the slam of the door.

Polly looked at Tommy, who was nodding.

He smacked his mouth before saying, “All right, that's it. Back to work. Come on!”

I headed out, posthaste. I caught up with Arthur and clapped my hands on his shoulders.

“Arthur!” I shouted. “Give me a ride to Cassie’s, will ya?”

“Cassie? Your mate’s?”

I nodded while humming.

“All right, hop in the car.”

After Arthur dropped me off at Cassie’s, we soon got a call from Angie. Said she wanted us to be at some event next morning. It was really fancy and I would have to dress nice. There was to be a dress code as well. All white. So, the next morning, Simmons dropped me off at the house in Sutton. As Michael was getting ready to go to the auction— I got ready for the event.

I wore a real modern dress. I got it made by the same person who Tina had make my birthday dress. It was a white, spaghetti strap, fit-and-flare dress. I had a white, fur-lined coat to go with it. 

I barely styled my hair, just swept it to one side, really. My make-up was done in lighter shades and I added on jewelry. Had on my heart-shaped locket necklace and wore my pearl earrings. 

When I was done slipping on my white heels, I trotted downstairs. I peered into the living room to see Michael showing off his new suit to Polly. I chuckled breathily at the sight before stepping outside.

I waited on the steps for Cassie to come ‘n pick me up. I rummaged through my purse for my lighter and my cigarette case. I put one between my lips and lit it up. I took a long pull and then slowly exhaled. My coat fell from my shoulders and into the crooks of my arms, but I didn’t care to hike it back up.

When I saw that ugly truck pull up, I smiled. I knew it was them ‘cause of the episode. John parked then hopped out of the car. I met him halfway as I ran into his arms.

I squealed as he twirled me around in the air. 

“What’s up with your clothes nowadays, Ali? Looking like a rich girl.”

I cackled, mischievously with my head thrown back.

I was put down for a second before I was whisked up in the air again. 

Arthur boomed. “Isn’t she a sight Tommy?” He set me down then hugged me from behind.

I couldn’t stop laughing. “Oh, let me go! Don’t mess up my hair!” I broke free from Arthur’s hug and pushed him away from good measure. With my free hand, I patted down my hair.

“Eh, where you going lookin’ like that, Aliena?” John asked.

I sighed. “One of my friends invited me to a party-event-thingy! It has a dress code. All white. And it’s posh people only, hence, the extravagance!”

I looked at Tom from the corner of my eye. I couldn’t read his face.

He nodded before asking, “ And who paid for the dress, Ali?”

I furrowed my eyebrows, confused. I took a drag before I said. “I did.”

He clicked his tongue and said “oh,” almost mockingly. 

I walked closer to him and shoved him, playfully. “I’m not telling you a blag. I bought it myself. I had it custom made. Tina referred me to her dressmaker.”

He hummed and nodded.

I prodded my cheek with my tongue. I gave him a shit-eating grin as I said. “You know, the event is for horses. There's going to be a game of polo or something.” 

“Lucky you.”

I scoffed. I didn’t manage to make him smile. Yet. I tiptoed, gaining some leverage by using his shoulder as I whispered into his ear. “You know, Polly’s inside making sandwiches for youse.”

“What?”

I let go, covering my mouth as I nodded. “She’s making sandwiches and put tea in a canteen.”

Tommy ran his tongue along the inside of his bottom lip before smiling while shaking his head.

When there was screeching down the road, our heads whipped around to see who it was. Angie pulled up, roughly.

“Oi, Aliena! Get your arse in this car! I’m about to kill Cassie.” Angie screamed while leaning out the window.

Cassie peaked out her head shouting, “Ali, she’s being mean to me.”

I squeezed my eyes shut looking away from them. I tsked, opening my eyes, and flicking my ciggie away. “Shut up, will youse? You’re fucking embarrassing me!” I shouted at them.

Arthur passed us, saying, “This kid. Fuck it! I’m honking the ‘orn.”

I giggled at the man. I sighed looking back at Tommy. I ran a hand over his arm before I said. “Good luck with your horse, Tommy, and be careful.”

“Yeah, I will. Have a good time.”

While walking backward toward Angie’s car, I replied. “Oh, I will!” I turned around and walked correctly. Just as I hopped inside the car, Arthur began his honking. I giggled again.

The event was fucking boss, la. I never thought I would have so much fun at a posh party. The only reason it was fun was ‘cause my friends made it so. Angie and Horace had so much sexual tension, but Angie-! She was playing the game. Good for her.

I mean the dude has liked her since childhood, but men! “Men go for whoever their dicks point at,” as Polly said. Cassie ended up meeting a man. Oh, he was so handsome!

If I wasn’t so in love with Tommy, I would have wanted to pay this lad some attention. Name was Douglas Clayborne. Anyway, she ended leaving me alone for ‘em. Not that I minded. I wasn’t as anxious as I used to be when I was younger. 

Psh! I was, I would have prevented her from leaving with him. I would have asked to join them, at the very least. But that phobia’s been squashed. I’ve killed more than twenty people in my life. There’s no room to still be anxious about the world. 

I’m the danger people have to worry about now.

Anyway, Horace ended up driving me home. Tina and Angie were incapacitated. When I walked through the door, Polly was there near the entrance of the living room. She was clearly not expecting it to be me, but greeted me, nonetheless. 

I told her all about my day. As I was talking, Michael came home. She asked how it was, smelled his breath, and did all that. I smiled as Michael told her a blag. 

When we both headed upstairs, I congratulated him for being about to lie. He smirked saying he had no clue what I was talking about.

After that I went to get undressed; however, I was pulled back down soon after. John had thrown pebbles at my window. He came to get me to help with Arthur. I sneaked downstairs and hopped into the car. He told me what happened, even though I already knew.

I spent the night tending to Arthur’s knuckles, cleaning off any blood on him, and then getting him into new clothes. That took a while and some persuading. I had to crash on the couch once I got him to sleep.

Fucking, christ! Can’t have one thing to myself. I sighed, exhaustedly. 

TAG LIST: @amirahiddleston @nemesis729​ @salvatoreitmeanssaviour @tlfshelby1 @halepea @lilymurphy03 @marsfireeyes @masumiyetimziyanoldu @i-love-superhero​ @thatweirddaydreamer​ @xxbeckybeexx-blog​ @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch​ @well-hydratedpvssy​ @the-jess-life @babaohhhriley

#in another world #thomas shelby #thomas shelby fanfic #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby x oc #thomas shelby angst #thomas shelby fluff #Peaky Blinders #peaky blinders imagine

[365days365movies]

March 18, 2021: The Purple Rose of Cairo (1985) (Part Two)

This movie is interesting so far, and funny!

Granted, it’s a Woody Allen movie, so that shouldn’t be terribly surprising to me. It also won’t be the last of his films I’m watching this months, little spoiler alert there. You can go ahead and guess which one’s coming down the pike, if you want to.

By the way, this is a surprisingly uncommon trope. Most of the time, people will go into a TV, rather than coming out of it. Why is this not done more? Seriously, this is an interesting idea, and it’d genuinely odd to me that this is still a mostly untapped idea. Get on that, Hollywood! Although...the last time you did something like that...

Right. Maybe...maybe do something else with the idea, huh? Like, use it...but use it well, please. Anyway, back to the movie! First part right here!

Recap (2/2)

As agreed, Cecilia takes Gil to meet Tom, and when he does, Tom goes OFF on the dude, accusing him of ruining his career, just as it was about to take off, yaddayaddayadda. This is contrary to the claim that Gil wouldn’t get angry at Tom, disappointing Cecilia. Tom and Gil argue about Tom’s presence n the world, and Tom insists that he’s in love with Cecilia.

Gil asks Cecilia to tell him to go back, as he’s a fictional character, and she’s real. Tom insists that he can learn to be real, the possibility of which Gil denies. Nevertheless, Gil informs his superiors and the authorities about this, which Cecilia shows Tom what the real world is actually like. And back at RKO Pictures, it’s revealed that another iteration of Tom in a theater in Texas is forgetting his lines. The plot thickens.

Cecilia takes Tom to a church, and as they’re beginning to talk about religion, Monk shows up. He’s gotten word of the two spending time together, and he’s here to break it up, like an asshole. Tom defends Cecilia as Monk is about to assault her, and the two fight in the church, although Cecilia pleads with both of them. And the way the fight is stages looks...well, staged, which is clever.

However, this isn’t a movie, and Monk plays dirty, sucker punching him and literally kicking him while he’s down. Cecilia steps in to stop it, and she refuses to come with him, staying with Tom to make sure he’s OK. Monk leaves, angry and needing a drink, and Tom gets up completely fine. A perk of being an imaginary person, it would seem. No blood, and no injuries.

After this, Cecilia runs into Gil once again, and he bemoans the situation, and his potentially ruined career. However, Cecilia feeds his ego mercilessly, calling him a movie star with great potential. This ego inflation works wonders on Gil, and he quickly warms to Cecilia, offering to buy her lunch. He also reveals his real name, Herman Bardebedian, and compliments her looks as well.

Meanwhile, at the amusement park, Tom is lingering about. He’s called on by Emma (Dianne West), a “working girl” that offers to take him back to her place of work, which is a brothel. There, he speaks with the sex workers there, who attempt to proposition him. However, he’s only interested in speaking philosophy and existentialism, charming all of the women there. They offer him a “free night”, but the pure-hearted Tom refuses, as he’s in love with Cecilia. It’s a surprisingly sweet scene.

Meanwhile, Gil and Cecilia are walking the town, with Cecilia showing her talents in playing the ukelele at a music shop, and with Gil singing along, in yet another VERY sweet scene. This is an interestingly sweet movie, hidden beneath the sardonic nature of the whole thing. After this, the two recite one of Gil’s scenes in a movie, culminating in a kiss between the two.

Cecilia’s extremely shaken by this, although she does appreciate the kiss. And yet, she’s still married, AND she’s devoted to Tom, whom she says is “fictional, but you can’t have everything.” Confused, she heads out. Which makes this the rare film where a man is technically cucked by himself. Nice.

Meanwhile, at the movie theatre, the cast is speaking to an empty theatre, and noting their complete uselessness without Tom present. They once again note the futility of their situation. A communist character tries to get the rest to revolt, while Henry proposes that they’re reality, while the audience is the screen.

Meanwhile, elsewhere, Tom Baxters are starting to cause trouble in other theatres. Four theatres report Tom Baxter attempting to leave, prompting RKO to pull the picture from theatres. But first, they must get the rogue Baxter back into the movie, then they’ll take every copy of the film and BURN THE SHIT OUT OF IT. Meanwhile, at the amusement park, Tom attempts to woo Cecilia one again, and proposes going out that night. And he does go out with her, but to the theatre. And there...he pulls Cecilia into the movie!

In the movie, his money is good and real, and the entire cast goes to the Copacabana as scheduled, with Cecilia tagging along this time. And I’m loving every second of this, this is an awesome story. At the Copacabana, Kitty the nightclub performer is singing. Once she’s done, she questions Cecilia’s presence, as it goes against the plot. Tom tells her that Cecilia is real, and Kitty faints at the realization.

Tom takes her out on the town, and the maître d’ realizes that they’re chucking out the plot...meaning that he can finally do something that he’s always wanted to do: DANCE. And as he tap-dances on stage, can I just say, I adore this movie. Because I ADORE this movie.

After this, Tom takes Cecilia out on the town as promised, and we get a stereotypical film montage of dancing and partying in the fictional New York City. They go back to the apartment in the early morning, which is now empty of people.

There, the two finally kiss...only for Gil to show up in the movie theatre and interrupt it. Between the screen and the theatre, the three have a conversation, where Gil admits that he’s in love with her. The two step out of the screen to speak with him, and the love triangle crystallizes in a conflict. As the other movie characters arrive and add their input, the choice is up to Cecilia.

And she chooses Gil. Tom is crushed, but Cecilia explains that Gil is in the real world, and Tom...well, Tom is a fictional character. And Cecilia has to live in the real world. Tom goes back into the film, which finally proceeds as scheduled. And Gil and Cecilia leave together, to start a new life.

...Or will they? Cecilia goes home and packs, as Monk attempts to reconcile with her. But Cecilia’s done, and she’s leaving  him for good. Monk threatens her once again, but this whole situation has filled her with some courage, and she leaves, like leave-leaves. She goes to the movie theatre, where she’s set to meet Gil...but he’s gone. Because Gil never loved her. It was all, well...an act. He played Cecilia to get Tom to return to the screen, and to continue his own career, the absolute piece of shiiiiiiiiit.

Left with nothing at all, Cecilia once again delves into escapism, and views the real film Top Hat, starring Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers. She walks in on the scene where Astaire is singing...well...Cheek-to-Cheek. 

Fade to black.

And, damn! That’s The Purple Rose of Cairo! A terribly bitter ending for a great movie! And, uh...yeah, this is a low fantasy film, but it’s also high up there in my favorites, and is now my favorite Woody Allen film. But I’ll elaborate more on that in the Review. See you there!

#the purple rose of cairo #woody allen #mia farrow #jeff daniels #danny aiello #edward hermann #john wood #deborah rush #zoe caldwell #fantasy march #user365 #365days365movies #365 movie challenge #365 movies 365 days #365 Days 365 Movies #365 movies a year

[riptidecoric]

Re-intro

Heya! We’re the Riptide system, a 15 y/o white-bodied polyfragmented DID system of over 100 alters! We’re introject, protector, and symptom holder heavy! We’ve known we’re a system for slightly under a year now, and a lot of things have changed during that time. We only speak English right now, but we want to learn Japanese, French, and Chinese in the future (I still hate french people BOO FRENCH PEOPLE /j)

We collectively go by Riptide or Rye, and they/them if referring to us plurally, he/they if singular! Our Singletsona ID is transmasc genderqueer + queer + aroacespec. Some of our current frequent fronters are Childe, Venti, Haven, Aether, Tal, and Rosaria.

We’re ND, severely mentally ill, and physically disabled. We’re autistic, schizophrenic, maladaptive daydreamers and have ADHD, OCD, Tourette's, NPD and BPD traits. We also have C-PTSD, major depressive disorder, social anxiety, generalized anxiety, acrophobia, and conduct disorder with limited prosocial emotions. We don’t know what’s wrong physically but are currently waiting for our next doctor’s appointment to start doing labs to try and figure it out.

We’re currently a freshman in highschool, and we’re taking our district’s math class below pre-calc, the name is all fucky but it might be the equivalent of algebra 2 or algebra 3-4 + statistics and geometry, theatre design, art I, graphic design I, and just basic classes otherwise (English, physics, social studies). Our favorite class so far is math & theatre design.

We’re all atheists, agnostic, or pagan. Some of our fictives also believe in source religion, and there may be a few other exceptions. Many of us dislike Christianity due to what I believe to be obvious reasons, and also the fact we’ve had religion focused OCD around Christianity despite not believing the religion. We don’t dislike most Christians, we just have some inherent distrust! Talk about organized religion in general makes us uncomfortable, so please avoid it where possible.

Our political beliefs are all leftist (with shitty exceptions like Luna), but some of us are in different branches of that and most of us are just anti-capitalist. I think Venti, the most political of us, considers vespself a communist, but ly never seems to have the time to research where hy is within that.

Our common introject sources are Genshin Impact (we have almost the full cast I think), MCYT, and our original characters! We also have introjects from various other media and places, such as the introjects of our friends, MHA, and PJO. We also have some song introjects!

These are some of our interests!

Key: Special Interests Permafixations Hyperfixations Normal

Games: Genshin Impact, Cookie Run Kingdom, Dead Cells, OMORI, Minecraft

Shows+Movies: My Hero Academia, Yuri On Ice, Jujutsu Kaisen, My Little Pony, Troll Hunters, Voltron: Legendary Defender, The Promised Neverland, Ever After High, Girl Meets World, Project MC^2, LEGO Ninjago, IT (newer ones, 1&2), various shit Netflix horror movies, Luca, and we’ve watched pretty much every Pixar movie and a lot of DreamWorks stuff to my knowledge.

Books: Harry Potter, The Hunger Games, Ranger’s Apprentice, PJO + HOO, Magnus Chase, & Simon vs The Homosapien's Agenda

Some favorite bands/artists: Paramore, MARINA, P!atD*, The Front Bottoms, The Decemberists, McCafferty*, Isaac Dunbar, Ricky Montgomery, Peach Pit, Glass Animals, Cage the Elephant, Waterparks, Mother Mother, Lovejoy, and Penelope Scott!

*These bands/artists are notably problematic and I don’t support their shit actions, nor the shit actions of anyone else on this list, I’m just aware of these.

To read/play/watch: May the Best Man Win, The Song of Achilles, Six of Crows, Trials of Apollo, 3rd Magnus Chase book, most of OMORI (on start of day 1), YTTD, DDLC, Danganronpa, season 4 & 5 of MHA, Saiki K, Akame Ga Kill, Black Clover, Fairy Tail, some of Jujutsu Kaisen, Squid Game, and Steven Universe. + Any suggestions you guys have! We’re a lot more likely to play games or read books than watch anything

And yeah that’s pretty much it! There’s some more info about our boundaries n DNI and such in the !! Read !! highlight on our profile! Have an awesome day! Feel free to ask questions or say hi in the comments!